The Moth and the Star
by OriginalAlcy
Summary: Tara Maclay is an up and coming author, practically married to the woman of her dreams. In the space of a few short hours her life comes crashing down around her ears. As she struggles to get her life back on track she meets a girl, the type of girl she knows she ought to run away from and never look back…and yet she is inexplicably drawn to her. Willow/Tara.
1. Chapter 1

****A/N: This story is complete and has been posted on another site for a while, but I really want to consolidate all of my fics in one place. Anyone reading it for the first time, I really hope you enjoy it. All feedback welcome.

**Chapter One - The Moth and the Star**

The iPhone lying on the passenger seat let out an alarming series of beeps, an unwelcome reminder for Tara Maclay that she was almost half an hour late. She groaned and ignored the call, knowing full well it was her publisher calling to ascertain her whereabouts. Knowing Bridget as well as she did, Tara knew she'd spend five minutes being reminded that she was incapable of keeping an appointment and by that time she'd have arrived at Asteron Publishing. She let the iPhone ring itself silly for a few moments longer before it fell silent.

Five minutes later, as she had anticipated, she saw Asteron Publishing's squat and imposing façade ahead. The building was the first and last stop for all too many hopeful first time writers. Tara Maclay however was not a first time writer - not that that gave her the right to be late for a meeting with her publisher. She yanked the wheel on her Mazda and pulled into the car park. Gathering the bound papers of her manuscript and her iPhone (with which she had a love/hate relationship) Tara shoved open her door. A split second later she heard a sudden high pitched screech and the sound of rubber sliding on concrete. This was immediately followed by a cyclist barely managing to stop before ploughing into the Mazda's door.

Tara stared in horror as he tottered dangerously before extricating his shoes from his clip in pedals before he could fall over altogether, "Oh god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed,

He turned towards her and his stormy expression was all too quickly wiped and replaced by one of pleasant surprise. Tara felt a slight flush heat her cheeks as he stared at her a little too intently. She knew what he thought he was seeing, a young blonde of average height, pale, creamy skin and blue eyes that were enough to make even the smallest glance seem like something special shared between lovers. Tara on the other hand thought she was nothing special, just another girl really. Another girl who was really late for a meeting with the woman who paid her.

"No harm done," the young man grinned. "It's not like I haven't got a flashing light on the front of my bike and a high visibility vest on."

Tara cringed. "I'm so sorry. I'm kinda late and I didn't look before opening my door."

"It's fine, honestly," he tried to reassure her. He shrugged. "It's not like it doesn't happen all the time anyway. Know what you can do to make it up to me though?"

_Oh god, here it comes_, Tara thought with a slight grimace, she tried to keep the sweet smile on her face. "You know-"

"Give me your number?" he asked as his eyebrows rose expectantly. As Tara opened her mouth to reply he sighed and smiled wryly, "Nah, s'okay, you've probably got a boyfriend anyway…"

"Not exactly," Tara began, as she saw his hopes starting to rise again she continued, "I have a girlfriend."

"Damn!" he slapped the palm of his hand against his handlebars. "Sorry, I feel kind of stupid now."

"Don't worry," Tara shook her head softly. "It happens all that time." _Way to stretch the truth there Maclay, you're not that hot!_ "But I really am awfully late. Are we good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine and you're…you're a hot lesbian," he grinned before manoeuvring around her car door and resuming his journey with a last glance back over his shoulder.

Tara shook her head in disbelief at the nerve of some people and finally exited her car. In her haste she forgot the manuscript and then forgot to lock the car, before finally remembering to do everything. When she entered Bridget's office she was three-quarters of an hour late and Bridget was not impressed.

The publisher looked up from her desk with an exasperated expression on her face and removed her glasses as Tara gingerly took a seat in the leather chair in front of her desk. Bridget was in her late forties, a dedicated hard worker who built her business from the ground up. She did not share Tara's aversion to being punctual and efficient.

"Tara Maclay, your latest manuscript had better be pretty fucking fantastic or else!" the short-haired women snapped, however there was an amused gleam in her eyes. "Just don't tell me you're late because you were having sex. Iif I'm not getting any at the moment I sure as hell don't need to be reminded that you're practically married."

Tara shrugged, hardly wanting to go into any details about her love life with Bridget. It was true enough; she'd been with her girlfriend for almost seven years – a lifetime really. All the way from their carefree second year at university where they'd fucked like rabbits to now, a domesticated partnership consisting of polite conversation and the occasional snuggle in front of the TV. Bridget didn't need to hear about her love life, it was all about the wad of paper sitting on the desk in front of her.

"It's good," Tara said honestly, she swallowed a little awkwardly. It was hard to talk up her own work, even to someone who knew her work as well as Bridget. "It's probably my best work."

"Leave that judgement up to me, Ms Maclay," Bridget pursed her lips together thoughtfully. "But if you're saying that, then I look forward to reading it immensely, especially if it's even better than your last novel."

Tara sighed. "Historical romantic dribble…"

"It's the biggest seller on my backlist!" Bridget protested.

"Well when I am going to be able to write the kind of novel I want to write!" Tara protested. "I'm sick of writing this commercial crap!" She jerked her thumb in the direction of the manuscript on Bridget's desk.

"Tara, you know as well as I do that lesbian fiction doesn't sell like the het stuff. Do you want to go back to living off noodles and tomato soup?" Bridget asked.

"No," Tara replied dejectedly.

Another ten minutes of business-related conversation passed and Tara was free to leave. She bade a warm but hollow farewell to Bridget and made her way back out to the Mazda sitting in the car park. A small sigh escaped her lips. A part of her knew full well she should have pressed Bridget harder about writing the type of fiction she wanted to write but for some reason she found it difficult to stand up for herself. _It's my work for fuck's sake_, Tara thought angrily as she slid into the driver's seat of her car and tossed her papers and phone on the seat next to her. _I should threaten to find a new publisher._ Tara knew full well it would be an empty threat. She'd never walk out on Bridget, not for another few years at least. She owed her too much for giving her a shot when no one else would.

Tara was heading back into town, mentally running through a list of the rest of the days chores, when her iPhone began buzzing at her. She debated ignoring it for a few moments but eventually she gave in, leaning across the seat to retrieve it. A small smile brightened her face when she saw who was calling.

"Hey you," Tara said brightly. "I'm on my way to Woolworth's, you feel like anything special for dinner?"

"Ah… Tara, don't worry about me for dinner, I'm going to my Mum's tonight," Audrey replied on the other end of the line, her voice oddly tight.

"That's fine," Tara shrugged, trying to keep an eye on the road while talking on her cell. "I can save you something if you like?"

"You're not listening, I'm not coming home tonight…there are a few things I need to think through," Audrey sighed with exasperation.

Tara frowned and indicated so she could pull over safely, once on the side of the road she was able to turn her full attention to her girlfriend. "Auds…what are you saying?"

"I need to rethink us, Tara!"

The words hit Tara like a ton of bricks. "Why the hell are we having this conversation on the phone, I'm pulled over on the side of the road and you're breaking up with me?"

Audrey sighed again. "I don't want to do it face to face…you'll cry and I won't be able to get a word in through the tears…and I'm not breaking up with you. There are just a few…decisions I need to make."

"I can't believe we're having this conversation," Tara could barely hear her own voice, it was that quiet. "Hey, I'm gonna go alright…" Tara was fast failing to keep the tears at bay. "Can we finish this at another time?"

"Yeah…sure thing…I'm sorry about saying anything over the phone…" Audrey began.

"Well, it's a little too late for that," Tara scrubbed angrily at her face as a tear leaked down her cheek.

"I love you, Tara," Audrey whispered.

Tara heard an audible click as Audrey hung up. "Yeah, I love you too," she whispered with a slight edge to her voice.

* * *

It was almost time for the lunch rush and the main street was already teeming with suits ducking out to grab sushi or on their way to a lunch meeting. As soon as she stepped off the bus, Tara immediately regretted coming into town. She knew she should have cancelled her haircut but appointments with Anya were worth their weight in gold. Even Audrey's confession the previous day hadn't quite turned Tara into a housebound wreck. So she'd spent the night on the phone gushing to Faith and her eyes were a little red-rimmed this morning, life couldn't be perfect all the time. Something similar had happened a few years previously when Audrey had admitted to sleeping with one of their mutual friends. She'd balled her eyes out for a week and then forgiven her as though nothing had ever happened. This time though she couldn't help but feel that something wasn't right. The fact that Audrey had come out and said that she needed time to reconsider their relationship made her feel more than a little sick to her stomach. Tara banished such thoughts from her mind, concentrating on fighting her way through the stream of people who all seemed to be headed in the opposite direction.

Her phone chose that exact moment to start buzzing and she was forced to duck into an alcove set back off the street to fish around in her bag. It was Faith, her best friend since high school, solid as a rock and dependable in times of crisis.

"Hey, Faith," Tara tried to inject an element of enthusiasm into her voice but she came out sounding tired and strained.

"Hey girl," Faith's ever-cheery voice sounded over the other end of the line, she paused. "I can barely hear you!"

"Yeah, I'm downtown. I forgot all about my hair cut until this morning."

"Ah," Faith replied knowledgeably. "You wouldn't want to cancel on Anya, you won't get another appointment for six months."

"Exactly," Tara replied, checking her watch to see that time was all too quickly creeping towards her appointment. "I'm a wee bit late."

"As always!" Faith laughed lightly, her voice then took on a more serious tone. "I'm just calling to check you're okay. You know that bitch isn't worth throwing yourself off a bridge for - not after pulling this kind of shit on you again. In fact, she's not even worth stuffing yourself full of chocolate and ice cream. Promise me you won't, T?"

Tara couldn't help but smile. "Promise you what? That I won't throw myself off a bridge or eat until I throw up?"

"For the sake of my sanity, can you promise not to do either?" Faith asked in all seriousness.

A beep interrupted Tara before she could speak again, she glanced down at her phone and sighed wearily before saying goodbye to Faith. "Hey, I've got another call coming through, talk to you later?"

"Sure thing, T, you call me straight away if you need any back up when she comes home tonight won't you?"

"You bet." Tara's smile faded at the thought of dealing with Audrey that evening. She then hung up on her friend and answered the second call, adding an element of annoyance to her voice as by now she was well and truly late for her appointment. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end had barely begun speaking when all colour blanched from Tara's face and the sounds of the street were drowned out by the awful pounding of blood in her ears. The only words she could make out amidst the noise were 'head on collision,' 'ambulance' and 'hospital.' She barely allowed the voice to finish before her feet were already running, her eyes searching desperately for a taxi. All the while she felt an awful sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as though she knew it was already too late.

Tara sat alone in the hospital waiting room, barely interested in the magazine at her elbow or the child who repeatedly smashed his toy truck into her foot. Eventually its mother told it to stop but Tara could not even reply to the small smile of apology flashed in her direction. She felt the weight of her cell phone in her pocket and knew she should call Faith to come down to the hospital but even that seemed like too much of an effort. All she was interested in was news and so far no one could give her any. The desk nurse just shook her head sadly every time Tara approached the desk and passing doctors seemed too busy with cases of their own.

Finally Tara stood on her jelly-like legs and slowly made her way towards the swinging doors through which all the traffic seemed to be passing. A nurse roughly grabbed her elbow and halted her in her tracks.

"I just need…" Tara began, nodding towards the doors.

"Sorry lady, but you can't come through here-" the nurse paused at the sight of fresh tears falling down Tara's face and sighed sympathetically. "Give me a name and I'll see what I can find out?"

"Audrey…Audrey Kent," Tara mumbled numbly.

The nurse nodded and gave Tara an awkward pat on the arm before she too disappeared through the doors, leaving her standing alone.

Almost fifteen minutes passed and although Tara remained standing by the doors, the nurse did not reappear with any news. She debated trying to force her way through again but she couldn't find the energy to fight. Instead she returned to the hard plastic chairs and slumped into one, folding her arms tightly across her chest as though trying to keep in her pain.

"Ms Maclay?"

Tara blinked, once, twice. She jerked upright and after a few seconds realised that she had fallen asleep upright in the chair. Her mouth felt awful and her nose felt dry and crusty as a result of her earlier tears. She dashed her hand across her face and scrubbed at her eyes before looking up to see a tired looking female doctor standing in front of her. Although she'd pulled on a clean white coat, Tara could still see her bloody blue scrubs beneath. Tara knew what she had come to say before she even opened her mouth and the tears began anew.

"I'm terribly sorry Ms Maclay…your…um…partner's injuries were severe…"

The doctor's remaining words and heartfelt but otherwise empty words of condolence flowed right over Tara's head as she collapsed into a sobbing mess. At the doctor's further plea, she was barely able to mumble instructions for the hospital to call Audrey's family in Australia and Faith, whom she needed now more than ever. Tara waved the young doctor away. She could hardly fail to miss the relieved expression on the woman's face as she headed back to the world of death and away from the grief of the living.

Tara could only think of her last conversation with Audrey, its tone and the connotations behind it. She knew she would bitterly regret her words for the rest of her life, even though they had been entirely justified in the face of Audrey's confession. It was not the way she wanted their relationship to end…but now it had, and the thought crushed her. Time passed and Tara remained sitting on the plastic chair, somewhere beside her a child started screaming and a teenage couple argued loudly, she cared about neither.

"Tara…Tara?" a deep voice finally interrupted her thoughts almost half an hour later.

Tara glanced up and saw the faintly familiar face of a young man standing in front of her; she frowned for a moment as her memory failed her.

"Tara Maclay right?" he continued, "David Brewer…we went to school together, you remember, Clarke's Pacific History 101 tutorial?"

"Yeah, sure," Tara muttered dumbly, trying to think of the most polite way to tell David to get lost. She could hardly think of a worse time to catch up with an acquaintance from her university days. However when she glanced up at David she saw that his eyes were red and his mouth was set into a tight line as though he was trying not to cry. "You know, I've been standing on the other side of the room watching you for the past ten minutes, I debated whether or not to come over…given our situation."

Tara's despair gave way to confusion, she frowned. "Our situation?"

"With Audrey," he tried to clarify. At her blank look he continued and admitted in a quiet voice. "Tara, Audrey and I were seeing each other."

Tara's mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments as she struggled to process this abrupt and unexpected revelation. David continued to stare at her with his puppy dog eyes as though she should leap up from her seat and hug him. Instead she continued to sit in her seat, an undercurrent of anger now added to her despair.

"Can you please leave?" Tara asked determinedly, trying to keep her voice from breaking. She couldn't stand the sight of him.

"I have a right to be here," David replied. "Audrey's family called me…"

_I knew they hated me!_ "Like hell you do!" Tara was incensed enough by the gall of Audrey's parents to finally stand up. She was completely unsympathetic to David's obvious pain. All she wanted was for him to leave her alone to her own, authentic grief. "You're a fling…you don't get the right to grieve and certainly not in my face!"

David's shoulders slumped. "Audrey and I had been seeing each other for almost six months; she was going to move in with me…" he paused and sighed deeply before finishing, "I thought she told you…"

"Well she didn't…and I don't know what the hell you were thinking tell me now, couldn't you have waited for at least, I don't know…forever?" Tara demanded, she placed a hand on David' chest and gave him a solid shove backwards. With all her strength behind it, the shove was enough to send David crashing back into the row of chairs behind him.

Before Tara had time to feel horrified with what she had done, two orderlies were on her, holding her arms gently behind her back. This only served to rile her further and she longed to bury her fist, insignificant as it was, into his face. As she struggled against the orderlies, straining to get her hands on David once again, Tara heard a familiar voice calling her name in the distance. Tara turned to see Faith fighting her way through the waiting room, a concerned look on her face. With a sob, Tara wrenched away from the orderlies and straight into her friend's welcoming arms.

Faith stroked her hair and deposited a gentle kiss on the top of her head as her body shook uncontrollably, "Tara…Tara sweetie, it's going to be okay, just calm down."

"It's not going to be okay," Tara whispered in a broken voice as she collapsed against her best friend, "She's dead…she's dead and I never got to tell her how much she fucking hurt me!"


	2. From the Sphere of our Sorrow

**~ Chapter Two – From the Sphere of our Sorrow~**

The months following Audrey's death passed in a blur of disconnected memories for Tara.

It was Audrey's funeral. Tara stood in the midst of her own friends and family, but she had never felt more alone. Even the weight of Faith's arm, wrapped firmly around her shoulders, felt as though it was oppressive. On the opposite side of the church Audrey's family sat stiffly in their pews. She was forced to meet their accusing stares throughout the service, and then suffer their hollow condolences at the gathering following the funeral. Throughout the whole affair she felt as though people were talking about her behind her back. Just looking at the expressions on their faces was enough to hint at what they were thinking. She was the lesbian that corrupted their beloved daughter. If it wasn't for her influence, Audrey would have been happily married with a family. Regardless of whether or not they thought such things, it drove Tara to distraction just imaging it. It was all she could do to get away from those people and go home. She wanted nothing more than to grieve alone.

* * *

Tara woke feeling as though something was choking her. However when she sat up in bed and flicked the lamp on, she found herself alone in the room. She turned and stared across at the empty expanse of bed next to her. Unable to bring herself to turn the light off, she lay back down with it still on. She stretched her arm out into the empty space next to her as though, if she stretched far enough, she would feel Audrey there lying next to her.

Tara lay wrapped in a blanket on the couch. She listened to Oprah's familiar and reassuring voice drone from within the TV. _"Wow, great to see you…great to see you both…so Mary, were there times when you just wanted to say I've had enough and give up?"_ Tara sighed and fumbled for the remote to turn the TV off. She couldn't find it anywhere and simply gave up. Oprah continued to drag Mary's life story out of her.

A piercing sound interrupted her nap. Tara jerked up to find that the phone was ringing. She let it ring until it switched over to the answering machine. The sound of Faith's concerned voice reached her ears. "Hi girl, it's me. I haven't heard from you in a while, too long in fact. I'm really worried about you. Call me back and we could do coffee, or maybe even catch a movie. I bet you haven't been out of the apartment, just sitting around all day watching Oprah. Anyway, I love you. Call me." The phone clicked and Faith's voice was gone. Tara rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Thoroughly annoyed by Tara's repeated refusals to see her, Faith had decided to take matters into her own hands. She waited outside the blonde's apartment building until she saw someone mildly familiar and asked to tag along. It was just her luck that the one person she did happen to see was Pete, Tara's rather creepy immediate next-door neighbour. The guy always seemed to talk directly at her breasts. Nevertheless, any route to Tara was one she had to take. After enduring Pete's stares throughout the lift ride, she rapped loudly on the door to Tara's apartment. Upon receiving no answer, she tried her luck with the handle. The door was unlocked and swung inwards with a slight creak. No light greeted her from within. The heavy curtains were drawn even though it was the middle of the afternoon and the winter sun was shining outside. She waited a minute for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Eventually she spied the top of Tara's head peeking over the back of the couch. With a small sigh, Faith invited herself in and crossed the polished wooden floors. She looked down to find Tara curled up with her arms wrapped around a pillow and a blanket drawn up to cover her legs.

Faith snatched the pillow away. "Tara Maclay, what the hell do you think you're doing by ignoring your phone calls? I had to follow Pete into the building, and you know how creepy he is!"

"Sorry," Tara mumbled. "Guess I haven't felt like company. I just need a little time to myself."

"It's been over four months!"

"Is there suppose to be a prescribed time limit for grieving?" Tara fired back, pulling the blanket over her head so that her voice was muffled. "It's been four months so now I have to pick myself up and get on with my life?"

Faith bit her lip. She hadn't realised Tara's wounds would still be so raw. She lowered herself down over the back of the sofa so she could draw Tara into a warm embrace. For a few moments she hugged her best friend silly, tightening her muscular forearms around her too-thin shoulders. When she straightened, she looked around the apartment. For the first time since she had entered, noticed how bare it was. It didn't take her long however to realise exactly what was missing. Everything that had belonged to Audrey was gone.

"Where's all her stuff?" Faith asked offhandedly. She deliberately avoided using Audrey's name, and tried to keep her voice as casual as possible to mask the difficulties inherent in asking such a question.

Tara glanced around her living room. She suddenly frowned, as though only just realising it was all missing. After a few moments she shrugged, apparently unconcerned, as she replied, "The Kents came by a week after the funeral and picked it all up."

"Those sanctimonious arseholes!" Faith growled at their complete lack of tact and anything approaching decency.

"Actually, it was rather a blessing, "Tara admitted. "It saved me sorting through everything. I mean really, how do you prise apart two lives that have been together for seven years?"

Having never been relationship that lasted seven months let alone seven years, Faith had no acceptable answer. She caught the note of bitterness in Tara's voice and changed the subject. "You want a coffee?"

"Sure," Tara whispered in reply. As she listened to Faith's footsteps, she tried to remember the last time she had a coffee. _Do I even drink coffee?_

"My god, Tara. There's nothing in your fridge except condiments and a bottle of milk that has developed its own ecosystem!" Faith exclaimed. She emerged from Tara's fridge with a wrinkled nose.

Tara used the back of the sofa as leverage to pull herself up into a sitting position. She peered over to see Faith standing with her hands on her hips. Her friend was clearly disappointed at the lack of attention she had been paying to her own well being. It was true enough. Tara remembered eating a stale bagel the previous afternoon but, other than that, she could not remember anything that had passed her lips. She supposed she had to have been eating and drinking, otherwise she would obviously be dead. However, this was as far as rational thought went.

"You need to get out of the house and feel like a woman again instead of a zombie who sits in the dark all day and watches TV," Faith said in a determined voice.

"I don't watch TV all day," Tara protested. She glanced down and realised the remote was lying in her lap.

"You don't?" Faith arched an eyebrow. "Okay, what was Oprah talking about yesterday?"

"Husbands who love their dogs more than their wives," Tara replied promptly.

Faith continued, "And the day before that?"

Tara barely had to think for a second before she answered, "Help, I'm too fat to see my feet." No sooner had the words left her lips than she succeeded in realising just how sad her life currently was. She sighed and swung her legs over the side of the couch. As the blanket slipped off her lap she stared down at her dancing penguin pyjamas. Her feet were snugly enclosed in a pair of thick pink socks knitted by her nana. When she looked up Faith was standing in front of her holding a steaming cup.

Tara accepted it gratefully and sniffed the herbal tea. It was St John's Wort, her favourite. However, just as she was getting used to enjoying having someone else in the apartment, Faith made a sudden announcement that gave her goosebumps.

"You and I should go out Saturday night. It would do you a world of good to, you know, actually see people!"

Tara coughed on a mouthful of tea so violently she had to set the mug down. "Faith, there is no way in hell I am going to be seen in public. My skin is awful, and I won't be able to fit into anything in my wardrobe after doing nothing but lie on the couch for months. My arse is the size of a bus!"

"Puh-lease, T!" Faith snapped playfully. "You haven't had a zit since you were sixteen, and your arse is almost fine enough to turn me gay!"

After emitting a small sigh, Tara found herself smiling at her best friend. She'd been so busy feeling sorry for herself these past months that she didn't realise just how much she needed someone else in her life. Faith had a look of fierce determination on her face and she knew that, short of being struck down by illness, there was no way she was getting out of a Saturday night in town. A small part of her was almost beginning to enjoy the thought.

That was until she realised that Faith would want to dance, and she couldn't dance to save herself.

* * *

Although it wasn't exactly one of the world's most well known nightspots, Courtney Place was nevertheless teeming with life on any given Saturday night. The footpaths thronged with scantily clad young women teetering along on their three-inch heels. They were preyed upon by guys drenched in cologne, with hair arranged with copious amounts of wax. Just about everyone was ordinarily drunk or well on his or her way to being drunk.

The night was still young and the hopeless drunks yet to come when two young people, a girl and a guy, joined an already long line outside one particular club. Above the door flashed a pink neon sign which clearly spelt out its name, _Imerst_. The young woman, a redhead with her hair done up in curls, turned to the guy at her side with a confused expression on her face.

"Xander, you hate Imerst!" She lifted her gaze to the sign above the door. "I heard you say quote 'it's full of queens and dykes' unquote."

"True," Xander Harris replied with a succinct nod. His perfectly arranged hair did not move a whisker with the movement. "I did say that."

"It's a gay bar!" his friend announced loudly, causing several other patrons to lift their eyebrows at the unexpected exclamation. "You don't do gay bars!"

"You know my rule too well, Will." He grinned and reached out to ruffle her hair.

Willow Rosenberg danced away from her best friend's annoying fingers before he could ruin her carefully arrange coiffure. "Yeah, yeah, straight guys only."

"Don't knock it. It's ten times more fun than your no straight girls policy," Xander retorted. He squeezed her arm gently. "I'm only doing this for you. Who's the bestest friend in the whole, wide world?"

"You are," Willow replied, reaching up on her tip-toes to receive a kiss on her cheek. She stepped back with a wide grin. "Just count your lucky stars I'm not straight though or I'd be stealing all of your man candy!"

"Also true. Although it would be interesting to see which one of us has the most pulling power," Xander suggested thoughtfully as the line moved forward a few paces.

Willow immediately let out a mocking snort. "C'mon, you're so gay the only thing you could do to a girl is criticise her sense of style!"

"Do I have a sign on my arse?" Xander grinned, turning to inspect his leather clad rear, hardly bothered by Willow's assessment of his sexuality. He was well and truly out and proud.

Willow laughed. "Practically! Speaking of arses, we've been standing a few meters back from the most gorgeous arse I've seen all year and your gayness has been made blatantly obviously by the fact that every other person in this line is staring but you."

"Trust you to find the talent before we've even set foot in the fucking club, Will," Xander commented as he gave his best friend a playful punch on the arm. "Point me in the direction of the aforementioned arse!"

"Blonde…leather pants...need I say more?"

Willow sighed lustily as she blatantly pointed out a young woman wearing a pair of black leather pants that clung to every slight curve of her lithe buttocks and legs. She wore a thin, blue singlet that exposed generous amounts of her pale skin. Willow's fingers twitched almost involuntarily as she imagined whether the skin was really as silky smooth as it looked.

When the blonde and her friend disappeared inside Imerst, Willow was surprised to feel a palpable sense of loss. It was all she could do to resist jumping the queue in order to be able to get up, close and personal with her just a little bit sooner.

"I really don't think I should." Tara shook her head stubbornly as Faith pressed a generously sized cocktail into her hand.

"It's a kamikaze," Faith explained. She took an enthusiastic sip of her own green-coloured concoction.

"That really doesn't sound safe." Tara sipped the sour drink and made a face as it burned her throat.

Faith was already scanning the floor with a small smile on her face as her eyes drifted over the sweaty, half-naked bodies gyrating to the fast beat.

"This is ridiculous," Tara said. She ran a hand awkwardly over the leather that clung to her thighs. "How on earth did I let you talk me into wearing these, or even coming here for that matter?"

"You look gorgeous, Tara. Although I wouldn't advise having to go to the bathroom any time soon…unless you have someone to help get back into them." Faith looked at Tara with a glint in her eyes. "Or unless you have someone to help you get out of them."

Tara flushed bright red and took another sip of her drink even as Faith knocked back what remained of hers in one long gulp. She couldn't help but feel guilty that she was even here to start with. It had been barely four months since Audrey had been killed. Although her girlfriend had turned out to be a cheating skank, she was still dead and deserved a decent amount of respect.

"Damn, that is one fine lookin' piece of meat!" Faith's low, enthusiastic growl interrupted Tara's worried thoughts. "Gay though…pity. Girl next to him is pretty cute. Don't you agree, T?"

"Hmm?" Tara murmured in an effort to be enthusiastic. She made a half-hearted attempt to peer through the crowd in the general direction of Faith's nod.

"Redhead, wearing the belt that wishes it was a skirt," Faith elaborated.

Tara finally found the objects of Faith's attention. A good looking young guy who was just as obviously gay as Faith had thought and a slight, young redhead who was indeed wearing a skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs. She was also wearing a top that seemed to defy gravity in staying up. The redhead was undoubtedly hot. In fact, Tara felt a slight thrill in just looking at her, a thrill that was normally reserved for the Angelina Jolie poster she kept hidden in her wardrobe._ Too hot to be interested in little old you, Tara,_ she thought to herself with a sigh of regret. _Even if I was looking to pick someone up…which I most certainly am not._

"C'mon T. We're wasting the night standing on the sideline!" Faith grabbed her hand in an attempt to pull her towards the dance floor.

"No way!" Tara protested. "I'm going to need at least one more drink before I let you drag me out there!"

"Easily done." Faith grinned, and before Tara could stop her she had flagged down the nearest bartender with a decisive wave of her arm.

Tara drained the rest of her cocktail in one deep gulp that left her gasping slightly. She then tried to find the petite redhead again but she and her friend had moved. By the time Faith handed her another drink, she'd still not managed to find her. _Perhaps they've left already,_ she thought, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. It was hardly surprising, even Tara had to admit the talent at Imerst was uncharacteristically disappointing for a Saturday night. She downed the drink quickly to fortify herself for the humiliation to come. She then let Faith lead her out onto the dance floor. Her friend expertly pushed her way through the tightly packed throng. It was as though the crowd were parting for her and she loved every second of it. Faith chose on a spot near the DJ and settled into a rhythm all of her own. Her hips gyrated wildly in an invitation for those watching to look and touch if they dared. Every lesbian on the floor wanted her and the guys wondered if they were in danger of turning straight.

Standing within Faith's immediate vicinity, Tara felt like the frumpy hanger on. Her limbs felt as though they were made of lead, even as she gamely tried to find her own rhythm somewhere. Sadly lacking in both talent and enthusiasm Tara just stood and moved from one foot to the other, looking as though she wished she were somewhere else.

In the midst of enjoying the appreciative whistles and catcalls that were being thrown her way, Faith glanced up to see Tara standing like a lump. As she let out a sigh of exasperation she caught sight of the redhead she had seen earlier standing with a clear view of Tara. She also caught the all too obvious expression in her eyes. She smirked and then looked back to Tara who was still dancing as though she was in traction. There was no way her friend was going to hold the redhead's attention unless she did something about it. Without warning Tara, Faith laid her hand gently on her waist and drew her in close to her gyrating body.

"Whoa! Am I missing something?" Tara hissed in an alarmed voice as Faith continued to draw her in until they were grinding against one another, pelvis to pelvis. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the mischievous gleam in Faith's eyes. "Have you suddenly decided to change teams?"

Faith grinned. "If I did, you'd be in trouble!" She glanced up to see the redhead looking on with interest. "But no, I'm just helping you attract a little attention!"

"I don't want to attract any attention!" Tara spluttered. She was beginning to feel unnerved at the sensations stirring in her gut. She breathed a discreet sigh of relief when Faith stepped away and the disturbing contact ceased.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Faith announced. "You'll be okay by yourself for a few minutes?"

"No!" she protested with horror. She desperately tried to hold onto Faith before she could move away and leave her standing alone.

Faith merely winked over her shoulder as she moved off into the crowd. She left Tara standing, well and truly alone, in the middle of the dance floor. In an effort to at least have something in her hands, Tara snatched a shot glass from a passing tray and downed it in one swift gulp. When that too was finished she found she no longer minded dancing alone. In fact, she realised she wasn't quite as bad at dancing as she had first thought.

Tara closed her eyes as she swayed in time with the beat, enjoying the feel of leather beneath her hands as she touched her thighs. Everything outside of the club, or even outside of the dance floor, mattered no longer.

She was unaware of everything save the rhythm of the music. That was until she felt a pair of hands slide around her waist and draw her gently backwards. Tara felt a firm pair of tits snug against her back. One hand drifted lower until it was resting below the top of her leather pants. Faith was definitely getting a little too close for comfort.

"Um, Faith…"

She was interrupted by a soft, sensual voice whispering in her ear, "Faith's gone…you're all mine now."


	3. When Soul Meets Soul

**A/N: This chapter is most definitely NSFW.  
**

**~Chapter Three~ When soul meets soul on lovers lips~**

After sculling back the last of her Red Bull and vodka, Willow slammed the glass down on the counter. She could now turn her full attention to the dance floor and, in particular, the one woman she had been staring at from the corner of her eye for the past ten minutes. With her dark-haired friend having walked off in the direction of the bathroom, the stunning blonde was moving in a sensual dance of her own design. Her perfect arse swayed from side to side, slightly out of time with the throbbing music. Willow's mouth went dry. For several, heart-stopping moments, the blonde ran her hands down her abdomen and thighs. Willow desperately wanted those hands to be her own. She began to push her way through the bodies on the fringes of the dance floor with a purposeful determination.

Willow felt no hint of nervousness as she approached the blonde from behind. All she felt was the thrill of the chase, and possibly even a sense of entitlement. The blonde was hands down the hottest woman on Imerst's dance floor, and therefore Willow wanted her.

Without hesitation, she reached up to lay her hand over the strip of pale skin at the blonde's waist. Willow sensed a palpable tension radiating from her body in response to the unexpected contact, but she ignored it. With a decisive movement, Willow pulled the gorgeous body close to her own until her pelvis was pressed against the blonde's buttocks. Feeling excitement coursing throughout her body, Willow slid both hands around the woman's waist to maintain their closeness as she began to move her own hips. The skin beneath her fingers was every bit as soft as she had imagined. Her breath quickened in her throat, and she actually had to fight to still her racing heart before she became carried away. She allowed one hand to drift lower until it rested below the waistband of the blonde's leather pants. Grinning devilishly, she hooked the tip of her thumb beneath the band.

"Um, Faith…"

_The brunette no doubt_, Willow mused. She hardly cared if this 'Faith' was the blonde's girlfriend. It would be her loss for leaving such a beautiful creature alone on the dance floor.

The grin remained on Willow's face as she whispered in her ear, "Faith's gone…you're all mine now."

Startled at the strange voice, Tara spun suddenly. She immediately recognised the slim, redheaded girl that Faith had pointed out to her earlier. Their movement stopped and they were simply two young women staring at each other. The dancers around them jostled for space and there was nowhere for her to escape. She stared shyly off to one side, while she felt the burning intensity of the redhead's green eyes directly on her face.

"I-I saw you…b-before." Tara tried to meet the girl's gaze. It was just as intense as she imagined. She had to keep her voice loud and remained close to the girl in order to be heard above the music.

"I saw you too." Willow smirked in reply. "I'm Willow. And you are?"

"T-Tara…Tara Maclay." A part of her suddenly wished she didn't sound quite so terrified. She felt like a teenager compared to the confident, sensual woman in front of her.

"Tara," Willow repeated. She said the name slowly, as though it were a caress. "You don't need to stop dancing. Just continue as though I wasn't here."

_How can I do that?_ Tara thought as she tried to keep her expression neutral and unconcerned. _You are practically in my face!_

Willow found herself continually moving unconsciously to the beat. Her hips swayed with perfect rhythm. She silently willed the gorgeous blonde to stay here with her. However she was looking about nervously as though she wanted to make an escape. Gently, Willow reached out and placed both hands on her waist, the skin of her fingers tingling at the feel of the smooth skin beneath hers. She encouraged Tara to resume her movement with the gentle pressure of her fingers.

With some hesitation at first, Tara resumed the movement of her hips. She tried to keep her distance, obviously feeling awkward whenever she came into contact with the redhead's body. However, she gradually succumbed to the intoxicating beat of the music, and the feel of a taut young body pressed up against her own. Willow teasingly snaked one hand further around her waist until it was resting lightly on her arse. She then drew her close until their bodies were once again inseparable. As she nestled her face close to the blonde's own, she caught a whiff of intoxicating scent. It was no perfume in particular, but rather a combination of sweat and desire. It only served to fuel Willow's fire.

"I don't usually do this," Tara whispered in the redhead's ear. For some reason she felt compelled to explain herself.

"Do what?" Willow asked lazily. She drew in another deep breath.

"Dance. I'm a lousy dancer," Tara replied quickly. It was easy to be honest when fuelled by alcohol. "Two left feet."

"Oh." Willow appeared momentarily disappointed. She manoeuvred in even closer to Tara's ear. "I thought you were going to say you don't usually invite girls you've just met to accompany you to the bathroom."

Tara's eyes went wide and she immediately stopped dancing – stepping away from the brash girl in front of her. "I don't do that either!" she gasped in a horrified voice.

Willow drew her back in close and whispered saucily in her ear, "There's a first time for everything." Willow grinned at the adorable manner in which Tara's eyes went wide as a result of her indignation. For a moment it appeared as though she wanted to bolt in panic, however Willow had other ideas. Her hold on the blonde was gentle and yet firm. "Just let yourself go a little," Willow whispered. Her lips were directly next to her neck as she spoke.

Tara sighed as Willow's breath fell on her skin. She felt the prickly thrill of goosebumps in the wake of her hot, sensual breath and realised that she could not extricate herself from the embrace even if she wanted to. Her body had moulded to Willow's as though it belonged there. It was all too easy for Tara to lose herself to the insistent, pulsing beat of the music, and in turn, to Willow's embrace. In the fog of music and pleasure, she was finally able to forget the awful nightmare of her grief. The pounding of blood in her head drowned out whatever warning signals her brain was still capable of emitting.

With Willow's hands resting at the small of her back, Tara moved her own to encircle her neck, thrilled by her own boldness. Their arms kept their bodies together, breast to breast, pelvis to pelvis, locked in a pumping rhythm that set them both on fire. As the dance drew on, Tara found it increasingly difficult to keep her hands off the redhead's body. Her fingers traced Willow's face, the skin of her neck and arm, and the silken expanse of thigh beneath the hem of her skirt.

_Oh my god_, Tara thought as she realised one of her hands was practically on the other girl's arse in the middle of a crowded dance floor. _There are a million reasons why I shouldn't be doing this…but she's so fucking hot._

Tara soon found that she was incapable of thinking about anything save the fact that Willow was 'so fucking hot.' All she wanted to do was explore the areas of Willow's body not covered with clothing. Although she wore practically nothing, imagining what the clothing concealed was driving Tara to the point of distraction and beyond.

"I-I…" Tara began, trying desperately to put her thoughts into words in the same effortlessly sensual manner as Willow. Instead she felt awkward and confused. "I n-need…"

This time Willow didn't use words; she merely began steering Tara from the dance floor with the pressure of her body. They had to break apart to squeeze through the tangled crowd of bodies but Willow kept her fingers wrapped around Tara's. The one point of contact was more than enough to fuel the heat between them.

The bathroom was crowded and several people waiting in line, but Willow pushed in front of all of them. She led Tara into the next available stall. The vocal protests were ignored as she slammed the door shut behind them. The whole stall shook when she threw Tara back against the wall. She paused and stared at the blonde for a second, caressing her chin with the tips of her fingers. Willow was thoroughly turned on by the thin sheen of sweat covering the girl's body, and the way in which her lips were parted in wanton anticipation. She grinned and, keeping her hold on Tara's chin, moved forward to claim her lips in a soft, exploratory kiss.

With one taste of Willow's lips, Tara felt herself grow faint. They were moist, sweet and like nothing she had ever tasted before. Hungrily, she searched and found the rest of those lips, claiming them with a sigh. She caressed Willow's mouth with her own. She closed her eyes. Still the contact was soft and hesitant on both their parts. As she tried to intensify the kiss she was surprised to find the redhead break contact slightly.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," Willow whispered.

Everything about her told Tara otherwise - the way her hot breath fell fast and furious on her throat, and the way her body undulated against her own, pelvis to pelvis, stomach to stomach, breast to breast. Tara felt the intense, urgent friction between their bodies. The thin layers of clothing that separated their skin may as well have been non-existent. Tara could feel Willow's hard nipples graze against her own and an inadvertent gasp escaped her lips.

"You're lying," Tara whispered as she twisted her neck in search of Willow's lips. She desperately needed that contact back.

She found them by following the heat of Willow's breath, and immediately claimed them with a fierce kiss of her own. In a move that would have normally surprised her, she thrust Willow back against the stall door with a strength she did not know she possessed. She then pulled back and stared straight into the smouldering green eyes just inches from her own.

Willow hardly looked like someone who had just been sprung. She titled her head to one side and smirked broadly with a confidence that few could possess. "If I tell you I'm lying will you still come home with me?"

Tara knew Willow's confidence was bordered on arrogance, and a large part of her contemplated turning her down flat. However, the almost unbearable heat between her thighs meant that this decision was already made for her. She buried her face in Willow's chest and murmured an almost indecipherable 'yes' that she could barely hear over their combined breathing.

Willow laughed lightly. "I was lying…I do want to take advantage of you."

Tara lifted her head. She felt emboldened by alcohol and the fact that the girl was just too damn hot to turn down. "Then what are you waiting for? Take advantage of me."

The taxi ride from the club to Willow's apartment building was short. It passed in a blur of flashing lights and frenzied kisses in the back seat. A twenty-dollar note was tossed in the driver's direction as the two girls stumbled out of the cab. With Willow supporting her with a firm arm, Tara glanced upwards at the impressive apartment building that towered above her. That was the first and only impression she had of her surroundings before Willow pushed her through the doors. There was also a lobby, a lift ride and then keys to find, but Tara remembered little of any of it. The next clear moment in her mind was the one when Willow slammed her up against the closest available wall inside her apartment.

Tara felt Willow's fingers digging into her flesh through the layers of clothing she wore, insubstantial as they were. Her grip surprised Tara with its ferocity and insistence. It was as though she had prepared herself for the probability of Tara trying to pull away from the embrace at the last moment. It would have been the sensible option of course. Especially given the fact that she had barely known the redhead for an hour, and she was still grieving for Audrey. However, as Willow moved the last few inches forward to claim her lips in a kiss equally intense as her embrace, any thoughts regarding good sense were indiscriminately banished to a distant corner of her brain. Her knees went weak at that point and she would have keeled over if not for the strong arms embracing her. She lost herself in the kiss. Willow's breath fused heatedly with her own as their bodies moved urgently against one another. Once again, they became almost indistinguishable as two separate entities.

Without breaking the kiss, which had by now deepened into an even more intimate exploration, Willow withdrew both her arms from where they had been sandwiched between Tara's back and the wall. Her fingers went to the band of Tara's top and crept upwards to expose more of her smooth, warm skin. With firm fingers, she explored her stomach and hips. The pads of her fingers seemed impossibly sensitive with such a surface beneath them.

Urgently, she tugged the flimsy top up further until it was above Tara's breasts. She then reached around and undid the clasp on her bra in one swift movement. The garment fell away to expose Tara's tits. While she held Tara's hips securely with her left hand, she used the other to begin caressing the soft flesh. Tara broke their kiss just long enough to emit a strangled cry as Willow's fingers found her nipple and teased it mercilessly. She then shifted her attention to the other breast until that nipple also blossomed beneath her touch.

Willow wanted more of the blonde. The removal of hand from breast met with a brief, angry growl of protest. It ended quickly when Tara realised Willow only had the intention of dragging her top off completely. Willow felt for its hem, and dragged it roughly upwards. Tara's arms were entangled for a few frustrating moments. The top was finally torn free with a slight grunt of exertion.

The redhead hungrily devoured first one breast, and then the other. If she had looked above her, she would have seen the tilt of Tara's chin above her as her head was thrown back, pressed against the wall behind her. Still lavishing attention on Tara's breasts, Willow's hands went to the buttons of Tara's leather pants and tore them apart hastily. With both hands hooked into the waistband, she forced both the pants and underwear downwards. Eventually she had to break contact with Tara's breasts in order to continue removing the clothing nuisance. The tight leather took some force on Willow's part.

At the back of Tara's mind, she remembered Faith saying something about having someone to help her get out of the pants. Any feelings of shame were quickly tossed aside as she watched Willow stand in order to strip her own clothing from her body. Her disrobing took less than half a minute. The flimsy top and belt-like skirt were both tossed aside. Tara let out an involuntary gasp when the bra and panties followed in swift succession. She barely had time to drink in the sight of the redhead's naked body before she moved forward once again.

Willow shivered with excitement as she pressed her bare skin against Tara's for the first time. She savoured the exquisite sensation for just a moment before being reminded by her own urges that she did not have the patience to take things slowly. She searched Tara's eyes, seeking to reassure herself that they both wanted what was about to happen.

Although feeling more than a little drunk, Tara clearly understood the question implicit in the redhead's gaze. Her answer was to grab the back of Willow's neck with one hand and pull her close for another fierce kiss. As their lips locked, Willow kept one hand firmly around Tara's hips while the other moved lingeringly across her thigh and eventually to gently cup her sex.

Tara responded to Willow's rather gentle touch with an urgent and insistence thrusting of her hips. Her physical impatience told Willow that she could move faster. A grunt of surprise escaped Willow's lips as she slipped one finger between Tara's folds to find her already soaking wet. In response, she felt the rising damp between her own legs.

Willow moved one hand to kneed Tara's arse. At the feel of the silky flesh move beneath the palm of her hand a thrill enveloped her entire body. Her other hand moved against Tara's wet sex. She didn't pay any particular attention to any one spot until suddenly, she broke their kiss to clamp down savagely on her ear. Her finger brushed ever so lightly against Tara's engorged clit. The blonde's entire body jerked in an uncontrolled motion. In response, Willow thrust her own body against Tara's. She shoved her forcefully back against the wall. Her fingers then raked the tiny organ in rapid pulses, lavishing attention on that one, tender spot. Tara's hips bucked enthusiastically in response. Her mound moved against the palm of Willow's hand.

Following another bruising kiss, Willow buried her face in the blonde's neck, and attacked the soft skin she found there. Tara's head was twisted so that her mouth was pressed against her ear. The laboured pants blocked out all other sound. However, it was music to her ears to hear Tara's need expressed so primitively. No words, only sounds. The breathing was punctured by small grunts and gasps as Willow moved against her. She knew her touch driving Tara onwards to the point of insanity.

Suddenly, but with a measured tenderness, Willow slipped two fingers past Tara's clit and thrust them upwards into her cunt. Tara was wet and more than ready for her entry. She cried out with the new movement and bucked her hips forward to urge Willow as deeply within her as possible. Willow followed the first thrust with an ever increasing number, each firmer than the first as Tara urged her on with the movement of her hips.

As Willow moved within her, Tara stared the ceiling above their heads. It was only when her vision blurred, that she realised she was crying. Her cheeks were damp with tears even as she felt the release gaining momentum in her gut, and between her legs.

The straining gradually grew until it encompassed her entire body, right to the tips of her fingers which were by now digging into Willow's back. Suddenly Willow heaved her right leg upwards and off the floor. Tara obligingly hooked it behind Willow's back and her left followed. With both legs encircling the redhead's waist, she was held up only by her hand beneath her arse and the weight of her body pressing her back against the wall. Her mind was racing, her sense reeling at the new pressures the position offered.

Willow knew that Tara was not capable of appreciating the almost inhuman amount of energy she was expending to maintain the position but she couldn't care less. As she grunted in anguish and her heart threatened to burst from her chest she could care about nothing except the woman in her arms and bringing her to release. After all, it was what she did best.

She was, however, on the verge of unceremoniously dropping Tara, when the blonde suddenly arched her back against the wall behind her. Her nails dug fiercely into Willow's back, and threatened to pierce the skin. Willow suddenly felt a surge of wetness pool in the palm of her hand and run down her forearm. Tara's increasingly urgent cries were music to her ears, inciting her to thrust as hard and fast as she could for a last few seconds. Her efforts were rewarded moments later she felt the tender and engorged flesh of Tara's sex spasm uncontrollably as she climaxed. Willow thrust her fingers deep for a few last, firm strokes, revelling in the feeling of Tara's throbbing sex contracting around her fingers.

With the blonde girl's cries subsiding, Willow's knees finally gave way beneath her. Her feet slipped backwards on the floorboards beneath them and she sank to her knees. She brought Tara down with her in a decidedly uncoordinated heap of sweaty limbs and pieces of clothing. They held each other in trembling arms for a few moments before Willow disengaged herself enough to pull back and lift Tara's chin with gentle fingertips. As she stared into the foggy blue gaze, she felt a sharp pang of emotion surge through her body. Despite the fact that she had looked into the eyes of countless drunken women in the midst of too many one night stands to count, she couldn't imagine forgetting the colour of Tara's eyes. It was almost as though she wanted to hold on to her for as long as possible. Willow lifted a shaking hand to brush a matted, sweaty strand of hair from Tara's eyes and felt a thrill at just that simple touch. For someone who avoided relationships like the plague, such thoughts were terrifying indeed.

"Oh…my…god," was the full extent of conversation that Tara could manage in the wake of such a frenzied and gravity defying bout of fucking. Even when her relationship with Audrey had been new and exciting, there had never been such an explosion of passion.

"My thoughts exactly," Willow agreed with a grin. Her momentary surge of emotion was thankfully interrupted, and she turned her attention to disentangling her sweaty limbs from Tara's. However, as she reached out to help the blonde to her feet, the uncharacteristic thoughts returned. She dismissed them as being the result of a lack of sleep and far too much alcohol. They would no doubt be gone by morning.

Tara wasn't sure how she and Willow made it to the bed that night, especially not with the way her legs felt like jelly beneath her. However somehow they did make it. Tara's last memory that night was of her head hitting the soft pillow and the warm weight of Willow's naked body pressed against her flank. For the first time in months, her sleep was nightmare free.


	4. And return to wake the Sleeper

**~Chapter Four~ **

**And return to wake the sleeper**

Even before her eyes opened, Tara could sense that she was not tucked up safely in her own bed. For starters, she had the unfamiliar and unpleasant feeling that something had taken a dump in her mouth. She prised her eyelids open with some effort, but was immediately forced to squeeze them shut again when a harsh light hurt her eyes. Keeping her eyes tightly shut, she tried to sit up. However a weight across her chest prevented her from doing anything other than lift her head from the pillow. Suddenly developing a mild form of panic, Tara forced herself to calm down to the point where she was able to wait for her eyes to adjust. She opened them to find herself staring up at the overhead canopy of a four-posted bed, complete with gauzy hangings trailing down the posts. Glancing down she found the reason she couldn't move, a slender arm was thrown across her chest. As Tara gently lifted the hand from where it was cupping her breast she heard a gentle moan of protest from beside her.

"You're not in Guatemala now," a soft voice pointed out, rather unhelpfully.

Startled, Tara sat up. However, when she turned to look at the redhead lying next to her, she found her still fast asleep. She had merely been talking in her sleep.

"Oh hell," Tara whispered as her horrified gazed passed from her own naked body to the equally naked body lying beside her. "Tara Maclay, what have you done?"

After a few deep breaths, Tara was able to calm herself to the point where she was able to study the girl's face. As horrified as she was, Tara had to admit that she had gone home with an exceptionally stunning young woman. Her red hair lay in an adorably tousled heap on the pillow. One hand was tucked into a fist beneath her chin. Just as a small smile was lifting the corners of Tara's mouth, she saw the dark bruises on the girl's neck and the fingernail-shaped indents that marred the otherwise flawless skin on her back.

"Oh hell," Tara whispered again.

She shifted backwards a little too hastily and, with a slight yelp, tumbled off the side of the bed. Wincing as she landed with a dull thud on her back, Tara peered up onto the bed to see if she had disturbed the sleeping redhead. Apart from a tiny snore, she remained fast asleep. Tara sighed with relief and turned her somewhat foggy attention towards the not so easy task of locating her clothes.

Finding no clothes that looked as though they belonged to her in the bedroom, she stumbled through into the living room. Squinting at the sunlight streaming through the floor to ceiling windows, Tara found herself standing in a spacious apartment. Although she had no eye for such things, she thought it could be the type of swanky inner city pad to appear in a trendy home and living magazine. While white was the predominant colour, it was made vibrant and alive with accessories and art.

She searched around the green leather couches, with an awful fright, she realised that the front door was wide open. _Obviously Willow's neighbours are more trustworthy than stalker Pete_, Tara thought as she pushed the door shut quietly. She glanced down and much to her relief found her pants and, a few feet away from them, her top. _Thank god…clothes…_ As Tara gathered up her clothes, just one glance at the wall next to the door was enough to bring back embarrassingly vivid images of the previous night's sexual antics. After a moment spent wondering just how such a position had been possible, Tara hastily dragged her clothes on. She left the apartment, careful to shut the door behind her as quietly as possible.

Tara shelled out the money for a taxi rather than suffer the 'walk of shame' back to her own apartment. The taxi picked her up from Willow's waterfront address and drove her back to her own modest building nestled in the tree clad hills on the other side of the city centre. She was somewhat pleased to see that the blue skies were slowly being replaced by ominous grey clouds. There was a whiff of moisture in the air. It would be a perfect day for staying at home, and hiding from the world.

Although her apartment building was a relic of the late Seventies, the architect had been obviously trying to revive Thirties Art Deco. The result was a rather hideous concrete monster. The apartments were small and the interiors sadly dated. However, after the jerky lift ride up to the fourth floor, Tara was grateful to find herself home.

Once the door was shut and locked behind her, she was finally able to breathe a true sigh of relief. She wasted no time in heading for the room she needed most desperately, the bathroom. Just the thought of a scalding hot shower was enough to reinvigorate her dulled senses.

She had only just stepped beneath the invigorating stream of water, when the shrill sound of the phone ringing made her wince. Tara stubbornly ignored the call, and she let the machine answer it.

"Tara, pick up if you're there? Damn, girl! I am five minutes away from calling the police! Or worse yet, if you don't pick up, I am calling your mother! I'm calling your mother in five, four, three…"

"I'm here, Faith!" Tara interrupted her. Her heart was hammering and she was slightly out of breath.

The mad dash from the shower to her phone had been made in a few seconds flat. She had absolutely no desire to see if Faith would go through with that particular threat.

"Tara, what the hell are you doing?" Faith demanded angrily. However, there was a note of relief in her voice.

Tara glanced down at the puddle of water quickly forming on the polished wooden floor beneath her. "Um…currently I'm standing wet and naked in the middle of my living room."

"What the hell?" Faith spluttered before pausing a moment. "Okay, I don't even wanna know! Where the hell were you last night? I saw you dancing with that redhead. You were looking like you were having a little too much fun, and then a few minutes later you were gone…" Faith paused before emitting a shocked gasp. "You didn't!"

Tara grimaced for a moment and then decided to feign innocence. "I didn't what?"

"Don't give me that crap, Tara Maclay!" Faith snapped. "You went home with that redhead from the club! You skanky ho! Oh…my…god, you had a one night stand!"

"Please, Faith, I'm tired. I'd really like to have a shower and go to bed." Tara sighed. She wasn't in the mood for Faith's ribbing, however good natured it was.

"Too tired from all the sex!" Faith added with a low whistle. However, when she heard Tara's exasperated groan she continued in a milder tone. "I'm sorry. You should've called me okay? You have no idea how worried I was."

"Yeah I know, forgive me?"

"Only if you fill me in on all the details when you wake up?" Faith demanded.

"C'mon, Faith. We were both pretty wasted. The sex was probably average…"

"What do you mean probably average? Don't you know?" her friend gasped again.

"I know okay!" Tara replied. "It was average." _Yeah, if by average I mean mind-blowing!_ Tara closed her eyes for just a moment and was assaulted by further images of Willow's body straining against her own. Two equally sweaty bodies writhing. When she pressed a cool hand to one of her cheeks, she found it hot to the touch.

"Tara, when I was trying to get you out of the house I didn't exactly have this in mind. I wasn't trying to force you to move on from Audrey so soon," Faith began slowly.

"Hey, I'm not moving on to anyone, and certainly not that girl from the club!" Tara protested. _She probably wouldn't sleep with me if she were sober anyway._ "It was just a bit of fun. Thanks for taking me, okay?"

"No problem. You wanna do it again next weekend?"

"I don't think so, Faith. I've had my quota of fun for the next few months," Tara replied quickly. "I'll call you later."

With some relief, Tara hung up on her well-meaning best friend and returned to her shower. However as soon as she stepped beneath the hot water, she couldn't help imagining herself back in the arms of the redhead.

_Willow…Willow…_Tara thought hard for a moment but she drew a complete blank. With an ashamed heat rising in her cheeks, she realised that she did not know Willow's last name.

_Oh my god. I really am a skanky ho_, Tara thought as she banged her head gently against the shower tiles.

* * *

"Willow Rosenberg, what the hell kind of time is this?"

A rather flustered Willow ran onto the work out floor at Bodyworks gym. Her gym clothes looked like she'd pulled them on in a hurry, and she wore an odd pair of socks. To top it all off she wore a dark pair of sunglasses that completely shielded her eyes to the world. Xander on the other hand was a perfect example of a hardened gym rat. His outfit matched and there was already a thin sheen of sweat on his toned body. Only his fluorescent pink sweatband ruined the whole manly package. He glanced at his watch and frowned disapprovingly.

"You're almost an hour late." He made a tut-tut noise and shook his head. "I'm beginning to doubt your commitment to your training regime!" Xander turned his back on her and began striding towards the treadmills.

"Hey!" Willow protested, trotting after him. She caught up to him just as he was programming the machine and lifted her t-shirt to revel a set of already perfectly toned abs. "You don't need commitment when you've got abs like mine!"

Xander hardly seemed impressed; he merely seized her by the arm and propelled her onto the treadmill. She complied, but only with a sullen expression on her face that said she was not at all happy about it.

"Loose the glasses, sweetie." He held out his hand and beckoned.

With an annoyed grunt, Willow removed her shades and slammed them into Xander's outstretched palm. With her eye protection gone she was forced to squint like crazy in the sunlight. When she was finally able to open them normally Xander let out a hefty cackle at the sight of dark circle beneath her puffy red eyes.

"Woah, girl, you are in serious need of some cosmetic help!" he exclaimed.

"Fuck up, Xander!" Willow growled.

Even as Willow glowered at him, Xander jabbed his finger on the start button and forced her to start walking. The reluctant redhead plodded on the treadmill at a less than enthusiastic pace. Xander lent against the display panel with his eyes wide and pleading. He was clearly after information regarding Willow's nocturnal activities.

Willow sighed in annoyance. She refused to look at him as she continued to march on the treadmill. "You know full well that when I've got this look on my face, you're not allowed to go there." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Xander's mouth start to open in preparation to protest and she held up her index finger to silence him. "Just don't go there, Xander!"

In retaliation, Xander jabbed his finger down several times on the speed increase button until Willow was forced to break into a light jog. The move had its intended effect as she was forced to shut up and concentrate to avoid tripping over her uncooperative feet.

"I know the rules, I made the damn rules!" he said in a huff. "And the rules don't apply to nights where I don't get any! So spill and give me my vicarious orgasm!"

With a thin sheen of sweat already coating her face, Willow turned to her friend and gave him a withering look of disapproval. "That's truly disgusting."

Xander held up his hands in momentary defeat and they managed to pass the rest of Willow's warm up in silence. It left Willow huffing and puffing at a rate that was normally reserved for the end of the work out. However she could tell that Xander wasn't going to let it rest that easily. He had a 'look' in his eyes. No sooner had they moved onto their second weight machine, Willow saw the pleading resume in his eyes. She sighed. as though being his friend was a great burden.

Willow stubbornly remained silent until she was lying face down on a roman chair doing back extensions. With Xander's annoying face gone from view, she found herself revisiting her night with Tara Maclay. From their dance, to the way the blonde's naked body had felt against her own. Just thinking about it brought a warming sensation to her gut. She was also grateful for the exercise already rendering her cheeks red.

She'd woken up late morning with nothing but an expanse of cold, empty bed next to her. Usually having her date make a discreet exit made things a lot less complicated. It avoided the post-sex awkwardness. She wasn't forced to part with her cell number, or make false promises to set another date. However, upon waking on this particular morning, Willow had immediately been struck by the unfamiliar realisation that something was missing. Before she had been able to put her finger on it and admit to herself that she had wanted Tara to stay or some other ridiculous notion, she'd realised she was late for her session. In her haste to make it to the gym she'd forgotten about the weird thoughts. Now Xander's questions and her own busy mind were bringing them to the surface again.

She turned her cheek slightly so she could see Xander from the corner of her eye. With a deep breath she admitted, "There were no orgasms had, at least on my part anyway."

"What the fuck?" was Xander's succinct reply.

Willow sighed and faced the floor once more. She heaved the weight upwards and towards her arse once again. "I mean, I fucked her and it was…everything about it was great. The way she felt in my arms, feeling her come with my fingers, and the rest just didn't seem important."

"By 'the rest' you mean her returning the favour?" Xander prodded in disbelief as he helped her up from the bench.

"I guess so." Willow shrugged. "Although I was still wired, she was wiped out completely. I took her to bed, and just lay watching her sleep." Willow settled into the next machine and began her leg extensions. As she did she found she could easily conjure up images of Tara's face as she slept. All the while she was oblivious to the increasing look of shock developing on Xander's face as she continued talking. "It was all surreal really. Almost like something was different with her."

She gave one more shrug as though that was the end of the matter. As she concentrated on working out her quads, Xander was strangely silent. When she finally looked up at him, she saw his eyes were wide with what appeared to be shock or surprise.

"What the fuck is up with you?" she demanded.

"Oh…my…god!" was all he could manage for the moment.

"What?" Willow demanded again.

"You said the magic words! 'Something different with her.' Willow Rosenberg, this is a momentous step in your personal growth!"

Willow's thoughtful expression morphed into a defensive one as she realised what he was hinting at. "I just meant that I'd fuck her again if the occasion arose, and that's not a big step. I've fucked several people more than once. Hey, this town's only so big right? I'm bound to have to dip my toes in the same pool a couple of times!"

Xander pursed his lips together thoughtfully for a moment before he replied suddenly, "No…no, that's not it."

"What do you mean, 'that's not it?'" Willow demanded, stopping her reps altogether.

"You don't want to fuck her again…" Xander paused and decided to choose his words more carefully. "Well, you do because you're you and you're a total nympho, but before you get to the fucking you just want to see her again. Now, as we both know with lesbians, this often leads to u-hauls and turkey basters."

"Xander, you're babbling nonsensically," Willow muttered as she resumed her leg extensions.

"I'm not, it all makes perfect sense!" Xander protested gamely.

"Not another word, Harris, any more talk about u-hauls and I'm going to find myself another personal trainer!"

"But don't you want to talk about what happened?"

"Not particularly, no," Willow replied. "Look, if you'll just drop it then everything will go back to normal in a few days and she'll be a distant memory. Albeit a good distant memory."

"Unless you see her again," Xander suggested playing the devil's advocate. "As you were saying earlier, it's a small town."

Willow grunted as she strained to pull the weight up once again. "I'll cross that hurdle if I ever come to it. Now can we finish up here? I feel fucking awful and, in another couple of minutes, I'm going to hurl."

Xander sighed as he saw his vicarious thrills get snatched out from beneath his nose. He handed her a fresh towel. "Sure thing. Am I still going to see you at Imerst tonight?"

Willow grinned as she wiped the sweat off her face and neck. "Where the heck else would I be?"


	5. The devotion to something afar

**~ Chapter Five ~**

**The devotion to something afar  
**

Even on Sunday night, the crowd at Imerst was jumping along to a beat all of its own. Though it was a little less crowded and a little subdued compared to a Friday or Saturday night, the beats were still playing just as loudly. The dance floor was busy with enthusiastic revellers. The bar was doing a steady trade despite the fact that many of those ordering had to go to work the next day.

One person who did not have to work the next day stood on the mezzanine balcony overlooking the dance floor. Willow Rosenberg remained content to stand aloof from the throng and watch the antics of those below her. She looked on with a grin as she watched Xander work his magic on his target for the night. Of course the magic worked, and moments later he made his way to the dance floor with a young man in tow. He glanced up towards the balcony and motioned for her to come down to the dance floor. Willow shook her head and pointed at her half-full cocktail. Xander shrugged and turned his attention back to his rather dodgy dance moves. Willow was pleased at the happy grin on her best friend's face; pleased at least one of them was having a good time. In all truth, she did not particularly want to be at Imerst that night. As soon as she had walked in the door that evening she felt an unfamiliar feeling of boredom and monotony. It would be the same people who were here the night before, minus the one she wanted to see the most. Even as she had eagerly scanned the crowd for any sign of Tara Maclay, she knew the stunning blonde wouldn't be there.

She turned away from the dance floor and saw a vision of bronzed, exotic flesh heading towards her with a dazzling white smile. Propping her elbows up on the railing, Willow smirked appreciatively as the tall woman approached. Her eyes lingered over the way her body moved in the skin tight, metallic gold dress she wore. Her hair fell in absolutely perfect curls, bouncing slightly as she walked. She came to a halt directly in front of her and placed a hand on the railing with her forearm nestled against Willow's waist.

"See anything you like here tonight?" she asked quietly. There was a slight accent in her voice.

_Ah-ha, tourist_, "Only very recently," Willow replied with a brazen smile. The other woman tilted her head back slightly, offering her the perfect view of her long throat. Willow leaned in close and drew in a deep breath, inhaling the fruity perfume the young woman was wearing. "And I like very much."

She drew back and moved her gaze down from the woman's throat to her breasts. The perfect mounds were straining against the gold fabric of her dress. With an even bigger smirk, Willow moved in to claim her full lips. However, out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of long blonde hair. Without warning, she stopped in her tracks and stared at the woman threading her way through the floor below. Willow could only see her back but it looked so much like Tara she was sure it could only be her. With the exotic woman beside her forgotten, Willow leaned over the railing and silently willed the girl to turn around. Her heart was already hammering in her chest with expectation of seeing those blue eyes again.

Just as Willow was about to call out, the girl turned around. She was gorgeous enough, but it wasn't Tara. Willow sighed with profound disappointment. She felt a pair of smooth arms snake around her waist, moments later she felt a firm body pressed against her back and warm breath on her ear.

"There are too many distractions. Let's get out of here," a soft voice whispered.

Willow swivelled in the woman's arms until she was facing her. She was stunning, there was no doubt about it but Willow found she had completely lost whatever desire so possessed just a moment ago. _Damn you, Tara Maclay_, she thought to herself as she realised she was going to shortly play the part of the tease who promised the world but never put out. _What have you turned me into?_ As the exotic woman leaned in to kiss her, Willow twisted her head slightly so that her lips landed harmlessly on her cheek. She pulled away and looked at her apologetically.

"You know what, I think you should make your way back to the dance floor and find someone who really wants to be with you tonight," Willow said even as she couldn't quite believe she was actually turning down sex…and with a girl who was so stunning she was almost painful to look at.

The girl stared at Willow for a moment as though trying to gauge whether she was serious. Willow just shrugged turned her back on the girl as though that was the end of it. Seconds later she heard her mutter 'bitch' in a loud voice. When Willow turned her head again, she was making her way back downstairs. Willow watched her arse and her perfect tits disappear and felt strangely good about it.

While Willow was done with female company for the night, she was however dying for another drink. She ordered two from the upstairs bar, drained one in a few quick gulps and carried the other back down to the dance floor. Moments later she joined Xander and managed somehow to wrestle her way in between him and his latest man candy. Neither seemed to mind having the gorgeous and vibrant girl slip in between them and a moment later all three of them were dancing in one tight sandwich at the centre of the floor. By the time the drink in her hand was finished, Willow had succeeded in alleviating her boredom.

Willow woke up the next morning to find herself on her own couch, without a clue as to what had happened the rest of the night. She was, however, extremely pleased to find she still had her underwear on.

* * *

The week passed in a blur of meetings for Tara. They were mostly with Bridget as they discussed additions and corrections to her latest manuscript. However her relationship with her editor was at a point where they both knew how the other thought, and what the other liked. So the manuscript was dispatched for the next stages of production with little fuss. In about six month's time, Tara knew that her next book would hit the shelves and she'd be caught up in the whirlwind of publicity tours and book signings. She was grateful for the additional time to herself as she knew there was no way she could have withstood that amount of activity in her current condition. Faith understood her friend all too well, and was determined to help her back on her feet and out into the public eye after her four month seclusion. As a result, the two women found themselves braving Wellington's infamous wind to trawl Lambton Quay, home to all manner of shops designed to help them part with their money.

Tara and Faith emerged from a short break for a coffee at Starbuck's, it was only just pushing early afternoon and they were already laden with several shopping bags each. Faith scanned the street; her eyes alight with the prospect of her next bargain.

"Where to next?" Tara asked, feeling the tip of her nose grow cold once again. She awkwardly brought one hand up and rubbed it fiercely to return some feeling.

Faith glanced across the street. "Zambesi!"

Tara was a little dubious. "Okay, I don't sell quite enough books to be able to shop there Miss big wig attorney!"

Faith grinned over her shoulder. "Ah, but they're having an end of season sale. Every girl's favourite place to be."

"Well, I'd actually rather be curled up on the couch," Tara began. She stopped herself when she heard the familiar negative tone creeping into her voice.

"Don't even start!" Faith snapped playfully. "Get your arse into that shop and find yourself a designer bargain!"

With a tortured sigh, Tara followed Faith in her dash across the road to the opulent and somewhat imposing storefront. However, once she found herself in the warmth within, surrounded by gorgeous clothes, she allowed herself to relax. She chose a nearby rack and started shifting through; immediately coming across a gorgeous jacket she could see herself wearing at her next book signing. The heady rush of excitement was more than enough to get her enthusiastic.

She drew the jacket from the rack and held it up against her body. Faith gave Tara an 'I told you so' look as they moved onto the next rack. Tara grinned and found that, despite the weather and her earlier mood, she was exceptionally glad that Faith had decided to ask her out shopping. She continued looking through the rack until she spied a cobalt blue shirt that would match the jacket perfectly. Eagerly, she pushed aside the clothes on either side to be able to extract it. However, when she parted the rack she caught a glimpse straight through to the store's entrance. At that very moment, the automatic doors parted and into the store walked a rather windswept woman. Despite the overcast skies she wore a large pair of sunglasses. Just as Tara was wondering who the hell would need to wear sunglasses on a day like this, the woman peeled them off her face and tucked them in her handbag. A sudden flash of recognition overcame her. She yelped and dropped everything in her arms as she cringed behind the rack. Faith spun around at the sudden noise and lifted her eyebrows in mild amusement.

"Ah…Tara?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

"Oh my god," Tara whispered in terror. "No, I'm not bloody alright…front door…now!"

Ignoring all pretence of discretion, Faith craned her neck over the rack and caught sight of the object of Tara's terror. She stared blatantly for a good while before she too recognised the woman from Imerst. Her eyes were wide with delight as she turned back to Tara.

Tara was already cringing. She knew that look on Faith's face, and she didn't like it one little bit.

"Hey, Tara! It's your girl!" she said enthusiastically and much too loudly for Tara's liking. She turned back to the still cowering blonde and jerked her head towards the door insistently. "Well, are you going to go and say hi?"

Tara risked a peek through the clothing rack to see Willow moving straight towards the back of the shop and her hiding place. Silently she willed the redhead to turn around and leave but she seemed to have no such intention. She took her time browsing through the racks, just as Tara had been doing a few moments earlier.

"No! I'm not going to say hi!" Tara replied in a whisper through her clenched teeth. "I've got to find a way out of here without her seeing me!"

Frantically she gathered up her fallen purchases, ignoring the clothes that had been on her arm to try on. With the bags clutched in her white knuckled fingers she glanced around the rack to check on Willow's location and found herself staring directly into a pair of eyes she had last seen through a drunken haze. Tara let out a surprised yelp and toppled backwards, her shopping once again flying from her hands. She landed hard on her arse, hard enough to bring a look of pain to her face and tears to her eyes. When she looked up she found herself staring up at the smouldering image of her one night stand. Her cheeks coloured and she fervently wished for a sudden earthquake that would bring the building tumbling down atop both of them. However, no such act of god occurred and Willow continued to stare down at her, rendering Tara's cheeks even redder.

"Do you always find such a novel way to make a second impression, Tara Maclay?" Willow finally asked with an annoyingly condescending grin. "Or should I be flattered that you've fallen purely because it's me?"

* * *

Willow hated the wind, almost to the point where she'd considered leaving the city she loved and moving to Auckland. However, the promise of not as much wind wasn't nearly enough to get her to live in the sprawling northern city and she'd remained in Wellington. However, on overcast days with the wind blowing and the lingering effects of a hangover from the previous evening, Willow would have preferred to remain at home. She was braving the conditions solely because she'd belatedly realised it was Xander's birthday and her friend would be shattered if she forgot altogether. She'd remembered him looking at a particularly rakish jacket at Zambesi the previous weekend and knew it would make the perfect gift.

Well rugged up in a comfy down jacket and woollen hat complete with pom-pom, Willow took a taxi into town. She had the driver drop her directly at Zambesi's front door. When she entered and removed her sunglasses, she found the store was a little busy for her liking; she'd forgotten they were having a sale. With a purpose, she moved to the men's section and scanned for the leather and plaid jacket. She searched fruitlessly for several minutes before deciding to ask one of the sales' assistants. She glanced up and saw them all standing around the changing rooms, with an aggravated huff, Willow climbed the few stairs towards the back of the store. As she moved she couldn't help but browse through the racks of women's clothes. After the week she'd had, she definitely had earned a little 'pick me up' in the form of a new outfit. Her focus was suddenly interrupted by a pair of startled blue eyes peering at her from behind one of the racks.

Willow's lips parted in shock. Although her acquaintance with the woman belonging to those eyes had been relatively brief, they had been in her dreams, both asleep and waking, for the past week. Not normally so indecisive, Willow was torn between making a beeline out of the store and reintroducing herself to Tara Maclay. She eventually shoved aside all thoughts of running and moved around the clothing rack. Sure enough, sitting on her arse directly in front of her was the gorgeous blonde who had made a discreet exit from her apartment the previous weekend. Willow could not miss the distinct element of panic in her eyes and wondered why she herself did not feel the same. It was not in her style to reintroduce herself to one night stands. Normally she preferred complete memory erasure, as though she had never ever met the person. However with Tara it was different. She had begun to realise it during her conversation with Xander. Now, staring into those blue eyes, she knew it with an awful certainty.

Willow swallowed discreetly and felt her knuckles clasp the straps of her handbag far tighter than was necessary, _Say something for fuck's sake, Rosenberg or she'll think you're a tongue tied retard!_ she thought desperately, trying to maintain a veneer of confidence despite her silence. Finally she managed a small grin that perfectly hid her nerves.

"Do you always find such a novel way to make a second impression, Tara Maclay? Or should I be flattered that you've fallen purely because it's me?" _Yeah, nice one, Will…way to talk yourself up!_

Tara could only manage a weak splutter as Willow stepped forward and extended a hand to help her up, "I-I…"

"Well, if you were trying to make a good impression…" Willow began as Tara grasped her hand after a moment's indecision. With one swift tug she jerked the blonde girl to her feet and found herself face to face with her. The rest of her sentence almost flew straight out of her head and she ended up staring into Tara's eyes for far longer than was appropriate before realising. With another quick grin, she finished in a quiet voice, "…then you succeeded. I don't get too many girls throwing themselves at my feet."

"I slipped," Tara mumbled before realising that they were still clasping hands. She jerked her hand out of Willow's grip a little too quickly and stepped back as though seeking to hide behind her friend.

With her earlier concentration directed entirely towards Tara, Willow hadn't noticed the attractive dark-haired woman hovering protectively at her shoulder. She had a vague memory of watching her dance with Tara at Imerst. Breaking the silence, Willow stepped forward with her hand extended again, although this time it was to shake the friend's hand.

"Willow Rosenberg," she grinned playfully. "I saw you shaking your arse at Imerst, you've some nice moves!"

"Faith Lehane," she replied, taking Willow's hand in her own. "And thanks, although you'd want to save your compliments for Tara. I'm the straight one out of the Faith and Tara duo."

Willow grinned as she saw Tara's face go a little redder. She decided to play with the blonde to see what sort of reaction she would get. "I think I might have already complimented Tara."

Faith placed her arm protectively around Tara's shoulders. The blonde appeared mortified enough to want to make a bolt for the door. However, with Faith's hands on her, and Willow blocking the path to the door, there was absolutely no escape.

"Hey, you guys remember Xander right? My friend from the club? The obviously gay one?" Even as both girls shook their heads, Willow waved them aside with a swish of her hand. "Oh well, you will know him. It's his birthday and we're throwing a little party for him at my place tomorrow night. It would make me so happy if both of you were to come as my guests!"

Even as Tara looked like it was the last thing on earth she wanted to do, Faith's face lit up. She looked to Tara and then back to Willow with a very satisfied smile on her face.

_I've got an ally there I think_, Willow thought as she fumbled in her bag for a pen. Once she'd managed to locate one, she reached out and seized Tara's hand again. "Here's the address," she continued as she scribbled her number and street address on the back of Tara's shaking hand. "Just in case you don't remember it from the other night." Willow couldn't resist following up with a wink.

"I remember." Tara blushed and drew her hand back to her chest as soon as Willow was done. "Oriental Parade. The white building opposite the pavilion."

"That's the one," Willow said with a nod. "So you'll come right?"

"I think we're doing something…" Tara began quickly.

She wasn't quick enough for Faith who interrupted smoothly, "We're free. As long as you can promise me some bona fide straight men, we'll be there!"

"It's a deal!" Willow replied just as quickly so Tara could not sneak in another word, even though she was opening her mouth as though she were about to say something. "Just bring yourselves."

With a small wave over her shoulder, Willow ran out of Zambesi before Tara could finally find her voice and announce that she wasn't coming. As she sprang lightly down the steps, she risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Faith's arm was still around Tara's shoulders, a shocked expression was still fixed on Tara's face. With another wave, Willow moved outside and back into the wind. _My god, Xander is going to flip when he finds out who I've invited to his party! He's going to say 'I told you so'…still, I'm willing to swallow my pride._

With a slight pang of annoyance, Willow realised she completely forgotten to ask a sales assistant about Xander's jacket. She stopped in her tracks and turned to stare back at the store. However, rather than give Tara an opportunity to back out, she continued on down the street. Even as she began to mentally run through other ideas for Xander's present, she couldn't suppress the memory of Tara's hand in her own. Just a simple touch…

_My god, I'm as giddy as a fucking schoolgirl_, Willow thought as she steered her way through the crowded streets. _Damn you Tara Maclay…you've made me so uncool it's not funny!_ She was suddenly aware of the ridiculous smile on her face that no doubt made her look as though she was high on something. With some effort, she wiped the smile but she couldn't get rid of the flutter in her chest. She was already anticipating the evening, and she couldn't help but anticipate the sex she hoped would follow. _Isn't that a little too presumptuous of you?_ she asked herself. Willow turned her head slightly and caught a glimpse of herself in a polished storefront. Despite her efforts, the smile still lingered on her face and there was a redness to her cheeks that wasn't a result of the wind. _Face it Will, you're a fucking fox. She wanted you last weekend, and she's going to want you again tomorrow night._

With thoughts of Tara returning the favour on her mind, Willow completely forgot about her hangover and the chill wind whipping her hair about her face. With a renewed energy, she set about finding Xander a present. She had to hurry though, because she now needed time to find the perfect new outfit to wear the following evening.

As soon as Willow Rosenberg walked out of Zambesi's doors, Tara turned on her friend with a look of abject horror on her face. "Faith!" she moaned in a drawn out gasp. "What the hell did you do that for?" However it was immediately clear to Tara from the extremely self-satisfied expression on her friend's face that she did not regret what she had done one little bit. She placed her hands firmly on her hips. "You are so dead!"

Faith merely resumed casually sifting through the racks as though she could not see any reason for Tara's horror. "Tara, you'll be thanking me Sunday morning when you wake up in her arms again, and this time you won't have to make a hasty exit!"

"I am not going to end up in that girl's bed tomorrow night!" Tara huffed angrily. "I don't want to end up in that girl's bed!" _Although at least if I do, I know her last name this time. Willow Rosenberg…Willow Rosenberg and Tara Maclay, sounds good together. Dammit, what the fuck am I thinking?_

Faith paused in her browsing and looked back to Tara with her eyebrows raised. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sweetie."

_Willow and Tara…that does sound good._ Tara interrupted her own wandering thoughts by slapping the flat of her palm against her forehead to bring herself back to reality. _Stop it, Tara!_

Thankfully Faith had resumed browsing and hadn't noticed her little 'moment.' Beneath the glacial gaze of practically all of the sales assistants in the store, Tara gathered up the fallen garments from the floor and jammed them hastily back onto the rack in front of her. Faith was already moving towards the changing rooms, slamming the door shut in her face before she had a chance to protest further. With another angry huff, Tara could only fold her arms across her chest and sit on one of the available seats as she waited for her friend. In the silence that followed she had plenty of time to sit and ponder the following evening. She knew that if she was nervously enough to start hyper-ventilating now, then she would be a wreck by the time the party did come around. Half of her wished Faith had never suggested that they come into Zambesi, and the other half felt as though she should buy her a lavishly expensive gift to express her most heartfelt thanks. By the time Faith emerged from the changing rooms to show off her first outfit, Tara was sitting with a small smile on her face, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

It was Faith's turn to fold her arms across her chest in annoyance as her big reveal was ruined. Her annoyance didn't last long. She saw the glow to Tara's cheeks and was genuinely happy for her friend. "Yeah…you are so ending up in her bed." She couldn't resist saying it one more time.

Snapped out her reverie, Tara sighed. "I shouldn't just assume that because we slept together once that she's going to want to again. I mean, presume much?"

Faith cocked her head to one side. "Hey, I noticed the way she was looking at you."

"Yeah, as a piece of meat!" Tara squeaked.

"A very attractive, available piece of meat," Faith continued.

Tara sighed. "Faith, last weekend was fun and all…but I mean, with all that's happened, I'm still not ready…"

"Girl, who isn't ready for sex?" Faith fired back. She grew tired of waiting for Tara to deliver an opinion on her clothes and she turned to examine herself in the mirror at the back of her stall. "I mean, that's all it is, isn't it?"

"You know me better than that," Tara replied. "I've never been able to divorce sex from the rest of my emotions. When I go in, it's all or nothing."

Faith glanced over her shoulder, "I do know you Tara, and that was your problem with Audrey. You should've had the sex, and then turned and ran, instead of spending seven years of your life with her."

"We were happy…" Tara began weakly before trailing off. She couldn't even make the effort to chastise Faith for speaking so poorly of her dead girlfriend.

"You let that woman walk all over you!" Faith interrupted, adjusting the ties on the shirt she wore. "It's time to stand up for yourself, reach out and grab what you want. You're twenty-six and you're never going get any younger. Shouldn't you at least give this Willow girl a chance? Maybe it will be more than just sex, maybe she's the one?"

"I thought Audrey was the one," Tara mumbled.

"Well, she wasn't okay. The bitch was cheating on you!" Faith was quick to remind her.

Tara continued, "Do you honestly think from what you've seen of Willow Rosenberg that there is the remotest possibility that we would be good together?"

Faith shrugged. "That's what I meant when I said for you to give her a chance, and the sex was good wasn't it?"

"Yeah…amazing," Tara replied weakly, colour rising into her cheeks.

"Well, that's a good start!" Faith clapped her hands together enthusiastically and Tara couldn't help but grin in reply.

As Faith started to close the door on her stall Tara stopped her with a shrill whistle, she pointed at the outfit she wore. "The top looks great, very flattering and perfect colour. The pants…not so much, sweetie."

Her friend grinned warmly, "You know you've got great taste, Tara."


	6. Ashes and Sparks

**Chapter Six**

**Ashes and sparks**

_I seriously cannot believe I am back here again,_ Tara thought as she climbed out of her taxi and stood staring up at the façade of Willow Rosenberg's apartment building. Although there was already a steady stream of people making their way inside, Tara opted to remain on the footpath and wait for Faith to show. She had already decided that there was no way in hell that she was walking into the lion's den alone.

As she glanced about nervously to see if any of the people emerging from taxis was Faith, Tara regretted not making her friend share a ride with her. As she waited, she discreetly checked her outfit in the window of the store that occupied the ground floor of the building. She'd opted to go casual, just jeans, her favourite brown leather boots and a top that she had chosen because it was modest without being matronly. Although as Tara studied it now, she belatedly realised that it was rather teasing…showing off a hint of skin at her waist and more than a little cleavage. With a slight groan, Tara tried as best she could to tug it upwards and make it a little more decent.

_Why the hell did I choose to wear this?_ she gave up in frustration and did feel slightly better as she watched a handful of young women walk into the building wearing less fabric between them than she had on her whole body. However, as Tara watched them disappear inside with their hips and arses swinging in tiny skirts, she wondered if she ought to have chosen something a little more daring, _You're not dressing to catch her eye! _Although even as this thought entered Tara's mind, she knew she had subconsciously chosen the top for Willow.

With the party already feeling like a disaster, Tara scanned the street for signs of Faith. The shrill ring of her phone immediately drew her attention and she glanced down at the screen. She sighed with relief as she saw Faith's name flashing, she stabbed her finger down on 'talk' and lifted the cell to her ear, "You damn well better be calling to say you're on your way!"

"Tara, I'm really sorry…" Faith began, her voice sounded as if she had a bad line. However Tara very quickly realised that it was the voice of one who had a rather nasty cold and her heart sank before her friend could even continue. "I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Tara replied in a drawn out groan. "You were the one who got us into going to this damn party in the first place!"

"I'm sorry…there will be no teasing if you want to go home," Faith croaked.

Tara began to discreetly move away from the door to the apartment building. She was already sighing with premature relief at the thought of not attending the party. "You're damn right I want to go home. Hey, I'll come over and make you soup okay?"

Snapping her phone shut, Tara prepared to make a hasty getaway from the apartment building and the constant stream of people entering the doors. However, she soon found herself sandwiched in the midst of a group of raucous young men. Even as she tried to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs, she found herself carried into the building.

"Should be a good party!" one guy with a fauxhawk commented as he flashed an overly friendly smile and a wink in her direction. "You been to one of Willow's before?"

"Ah no," Tara replied, a little breathless as her chest was currently being squeezed between two bodies, _Not unless you count the party Willow and I had last weekend_. "And I'm really not supposed to go to this one!"

"Sneaking in!" he winked conspiratorially. "Don't worry cutie; I'll get you in…just stick with me."

"That's the point!" Tara protested as the group overloaded the tiny elevator. "I don't want to get in!"

Her voice was drowned out amidst the over-excited conversation. Her newfound 'friends' merely thought her desperate hand signals were a form of dancing, albeit entirely uncoordinated and without music.

As she emerged from the elevator, Tara was helplessly swept along the corridor and into Willow's apartment with the crowd of revellers. It took her a few moments before she could disentangle herself from their enthusiastic display of physical affection as they mingled with the guests inside.

She gave herself a few moments to adjust and take everything before she tried to force her way back out the door. From what she remembered from her brief, self-guided tour of the apartment the previous weekend, Willow had moved all of the furniture to the edges of the room. A DJ was set up in one corner and there was a bar against one wall that Tara hadn't noticed. While she was weighing up her options for the most successful escape, she recognised the young man pouring himself a drink as Xander, the birthday boy. Although she had never said so much as a word to him, he was the only person she even remotely knew in the room.

Tara drew in a deep breath. _You can either run like a sissy…or at least try and stay for a few minutes_… While 'running like a sissy' by far her preferred option, she decided to at least wish Xander a happy birthday.

She crossed the floor, having to fight her way between other party-goers in some places and eventually tapped him on the shoulder. "Um…hi…" she began as he turned to face her. "You might not remember…"

Before she could say another word he let out an excited squeal, "Tara! Thank god you decided to grace us with your lovely presence!" She then found herself enveloped in a very warm, friendly hug which almost left her gasping for breath. When Xander drew back there was a broad smile on his face. "Her highness will be pleased…although she'd never tell you herself…and you didn't hear that from me!"

Even though the party was the last place she wanted to be at that moment and she was terrified out of her wits, Tara couldn't help but feel at ease when confronted with Xander's beaming smile. Her own lips tugged upwards in response until she found herself grinning. She even allowed Xander to lead her out onto the makeshift dance floor.

"You're the birthday boy," Tara tried to shout above the loud thumping of the music. "You should be mingling with your guests!"

However Xander didn't hear her, instead he continued twirling her across the floor, narrowly missing the others in the crowded space. In a rush of heady excitement, Tara completely forgot her initial apprehension and allowed herself to just have fun. Plain, simple, old fashioned fun. Xander twirled her a little too quickly and she lost her grip. Rather than an embarrassing tumble to the floor, Tara found herself caught in a pair of strong arms. With swiftly reddening cheeks she craned her head backwards to stare upwards into the kind but nervous gaze of a rather handsome guy. He set her back on her feet without so much as a rude or inappropriate comment and Xander reclaimed her.

"Sorry about that, Karl!" Xander called over the music.

"S'okay," the guy waved in response as Xander steered Tara away from her rescuer.

"I haven't had a drink and I still can't stay on my feet." Tara ducked her head in shame. She felt more than a little awkward.

"You want a drink?" Xander misheard her and Tara found herself moving towards the bar.

She stared warily as Xander began to pour her a drink with an overly large amount of vodka. Well-meaning though he was, she knew she would need all her wits about her to avoid a repeat of the previous weekend's sexual gymnastics. _Unless of course you want a repeat of last weekend's sexual gymnastics_, Tara thought to herself with a slight blush. Even as she allowed the rather naughty images to intrude on her thoughts, she felt a shiver run down her spine. An intoxicating whiff of perfume overwhelmed her senses and she swayed slightly on her feet.

"Well, well, well…you decided to come," a husky voice spoke just behind her left ear.

Although she had sensed the redhead approach, Tara was still almost startled out of her wits. She did an about face much too quickly and would have fallen were it not for a pair of strong arms encircling her waist. Once again, she found herself helpless as she stared into the smouldering gaze of Willow Rosenberg. She let out a trembling breath as her position forced her to stare straight back into the redhead's eyes. Beneath the scent of her perfume, Tara caught the distinct whiff of alcohol and wondered just how many drinks other girl had already had. It also made her wish she had at least one in her to quiet her nerves. As it was, Tara's heart was racing uncontrollably.

Moments later she felt Xander's arm encircle her shoulders in a protective manner and she glanced quickly up to his face to see him staring directly at his friend in a challenging manner. Had she not been so nervous, Tara would have kissed him in thanks.

"You're going to play nicely now aren't you, Will?" Xander asked cautiously.

Willow grinned as though 'playing nice' wasn't exactly on her mind. "Is there any other way to play?" she asked sweetly.

She reached out and plucked the drink Xander had been pouring for Tara from the bar and tossed back her head, draining it in one gulp. As she did, Tara stared at the smooth expanse of neck she revealed and remembered just how soft that skin was when it was pressed up against her cheek. Suddenly she felt Willow's fingers entwine with her own and she was then dragged off in the direction of Willow's bedroom. She glanced over her shoulder; pleading for Xander to help her but the young man had already been distracted by a friend. With the door shut between them and the party, the music was dulled to a loud, indecipherable thumping that beat in time with Tara's heart.

Willow placed a lingering hand on her chest, tenderly tracing the bare skin of her neck and throat before she gave her a gentle shove that sent her tumbling backwards onto the bed. Tara had barely landed on the soft mattress when she felt Willow's weight in her lap. The redhead straddled her with one lithe leg on either side of her. The tiny skirt she wore was bunched up around the top of her thighs, leaving very little to the imagination.

"I don't normally admit things like this, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all week," Willow whispered. She was close enough for Tara to feel the warmth of her breath on her face.

"About what? My dazzling intellect?" Tara asked with a gulp.

Willow grinned. "Not exactly."

"Umm…Willow…" Tara gasped in a whisper.

She was silenced a split second later as Willow's soft lips closed over her own. Her tentative protest melted into a sigh of longing as gentle pressure from Willow's tongue parted her lips. She shivered as their tongues met, gently at first before both of them unconsciously deepened the kiss, probing deeper. Willow's firm hands snaked their way up her back and eventually came to rest on the back of her head and neck, effectively preventing her from backing away. Although it had been unexpected, stopping the delicious kiss was already far from Tara's mind as she pressed forward, desperately needing to feel more of Willow's body against her own. Her own hands wandered, stroking the bare skin of Willow's arms and thighs, even going as far as to slide her fingertips beneath her skirt.

A million warning signals were shooting off in her brain and yet she could not bring herself to pull away from Willow. _C'mon Tara!_ a little voice spoke at the back of her mind, _This girl is trouble with more than a capital 'T', she's trouble with the 'caps lock' stuck down! But damn…she tastes good!_

The warning signals intensified when Tara felt her shirt tug upwards and a moment or two later, Willow's fingers worked at the clasp on her bra. As much as she knew she would enjoy a second tumble between the sheets with Willow Rosenberg, she wasn't the sort of girl who slept with people they hardly knew, their first time notwithstanding. All she knew about Willow was what she could see in front of her, and that information was about as shallow as it came. Willow was hot and rich. Tara knew that some girls didn't want to know more but she needed to for her own sanity.

Before Tara could place her hands on Willow's chest to give her a gentle push backwards, the door to the bedroom suddenly burst inwards with such force it slammed against the wall behind it. Tara instinctively jerked herself away from Willow and turned to see a slim, very attractive woman with golden brown hair enter the room. The expression on her face however was far from attractive. Her lips were curled up into a jealous sneer as she looked back and forth between the two women locked together on the edge of the bed. In a less than hurried manner, Willow moved off Tara's lap to sit beside her on the bed. She did however keep one hand possessively wrapped around her waist.

"Will, who the fuck is this?" she demanded in an angry tone as she pointed directly at Tara.

Tara extracted herself from Willow's hold and awkwardly rose to her feet. She kept a wary eye on the newcomer who appeared ready to explode.

Willow sighed wearily as she stood too and placed one hand on her hip. "Kelly, Tara…Tara, Kelly," she droned in a bored sounding voice. "Kelly is unfortunately my ex…"

"I'm you're fucking girlfriend!" Kelly interrupted; apparently she and Willow had a different definition of 'girlfriend.'

"Let me give you a little lesson that might serve you well in the future," Willow began. "When someone says 'I never want to see you again,' that usually means you're dumped. Got that?"

"When exactly did you say that?" Kelly demanded, suddenly feigning innocence. When she saw a brief look of indecision pass across Willow's face she seized her opportunity to move forward and take Willow's hands in her own. "You and I work…we get each other, how can this skank possibly get you when you've only just met her?"

Willow glanced across at Tara and winked. "Well, actually Tara and I know each other rather well."

Tara pressed her fingers to her temples; she could feel a raging headache coming on and just wanted to be able to leave.

"How could you? She's not even that hot!" Kelly protested, looking Tara up and down as though she were scrutinising every inch of her.

Tara just stared blankly at Kelly, unwilling to even dignify the insult with a verbal response. She glanced back at Willow to find her taking a swig straight from a bottle of Johnny Walker red as though she needed liquid fortification to deal with her ex. With her stomach feeling as though she had just swallowed concrete, Tara edged closer to the door and her way out of this crazy confrontation of which she had absolutely no desire to be a part of.

"No, no, no…you know what would be really hot?" Willow announced in an excited voice as she set down the now half empty bottle. She pointed her fingers at Tara and Kelly in an over-exaggerated fashion. "The two of you…kissing!"

While Willow looked on expectantly, the two women standing in the room with her obviously did not share her enthusiasm. Tara's face was frozen into an expression of shock while Kelly looked on in disgust. She shifted her pose to one of defiance, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

Tara felt her cheeks burn with shame and she tried to discreetly glance towards the door and her way out. Even as she took a step backwards, Willow moved forward and took her hand to draw her back into her. Once again Tara found herself melting into the warmth offered by the other girl's body, she glanced up and met Willow's enticing gaze. A naughty grin tugged the corners of Willow's lips and she brought her fingers up to brush Tara's cheek. Tara tried to pull away from the touch but she subconsciously found herself leaning into it.

"C'mon, Tara," Willow leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "Live a little for me…please?"

"I can't." Tara shook her head and glanced across to Kelly. "Not like this. Willow, this isn't me."

"Good!" Kelly announced with finality. "You can piss off and leave us the hell alone!"

Tara was driven backwards as Kelly angrily shoved her way between her and Willow. In an effort to monopolise Willow's attention she grabbed the redhead by her chin so she couldn't look away.

"You know we've got something special, you and I!" Kelly protested in what seemed like an act of desperation. "You can't seriously be prepared to throw it all away on blondie over there!"

Willow's eyes blazed in response. "Hey, news flash Kelly, you and I? There's no such thing anymore. I can be with Tara or whoever the fuck I like!"

"Ummm…I'm just going to leave," Tara tried to interrupt. "You guys can sort this out…"

"Hey!" Willow held out her hand for Tara to stay but kept her eyes fixed on Kelly, "I don't want you to go anywhere. Kelly was just about to leave, weren't you, Kelly?"

Kelly whirled on Tara, her face ablaze with an anger that the smaller blonde did not expect. "Come here you fucking slag!"

Tara shrank back but without any further warning, Kelly lashed out with a clenched fist and an audible whack sounded throughout the room as it came into contact with her face. She went down immediately with a small cry, clutching at her eye. However she did not stay down, knowing that she had to get out of the room as soon as possible. As she tried to stand, another blow caught her squarely across the mouth. Even as she lay curled on the floor she heard several piercing yells that hurt her ears. She tried to block them out as she heard a man's voice join the shouting.

"Tara…Tara…" though the loud cries, someone was calling her name softly.

Tara finally managed to glance up to see Xander's face hovering above her. In seconds he had her back on her feet and out of the room, leaving Willow and Kelly to their screaming match. Even as Xander slammed the door behind him, Tara could still hear the raised voices and they grated painfully inside her head, almost as painfully as her split lip and her eye.

"Let me look at you," Xander asked gently, tilting her face up so he could see her injuries. Tara winced slightly as he prodded her already puffy eye. "You'll live."

"You think?" Tara replied in a trembling voice, she couldn't help but glance back towards the closed door behind them. "Oh…my…god. That was just…fucked up…"

Xander saw her glance and he sighed wearily, his t-shirt had been ripped from the neck downwards, "As volatile as they come those two…when the claws are out, it's best to steer well clear or risk losing an eye. I'm really sorry you had to come between them."

"Is she always like that?" Tara asked, suppressing a shiver as she realised how cold it suddenly felt in the room.

"Who, Willow? Actually, she's been pretty well-behaved tonight," Xander couldn't help but let out a small chuckle that quickly vanished when he drew his attention back to Tara and saw the crestfallen on her face. He folded her into his embrace and gently led her towards the bar. "You want a drink?"

Tara shook her head, she only had one desire in her mind. "Actually, I really want to go home…really, really want to go home."

"Home it is!" Xander replied quickly. He was obviously ashamed that he had not thought to suggest that first instead of a drink. He retrieved his cell from his pocket so he could summon a cab.

Even as Tara allowed Xander to lead her from the apartment and she reflected on what an awful disaster the night had turned out to be, she could not get Willow out of her mind. Their earlier brief but intense contact had left every fibre of her body desperately craving more.

Tara couldn't believe how her perfectly ordered life had been thrown into chaos since Audrey's death. The warning signals had been going off loudly in her head since the moment she first laid eyes on Willow Rosenberg, she'd allowed her desires free reign once…and again tonight, but no more. She swore vehemently as she left the apartment behind that she would avoid the woman at all costs…for she instinctively knew it would cost her far more if she dared see her again.

After a particularly vicious verbal argument that left her rather exhausted, Willow was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief as she watched Kelly leave. She threaded her way through the gaggle of onlookers that had clustered at her bedroom door to watch the pyrotechnics, heading out of her apartment and hopefully out of her life for good. The rest of the party-goers gradually realised that the excitement of the fight was over and went back to their previous activities. Moving amidst the thrumming crowd, Willow scanned the place for Xander or Tara but could see no sign of her best friend or the unfortunate blonde. She searched through the drunken revellers but no one had seen Xander recently enough to be helpful and no one even seemed to know who Tara was. Finally, Willow noticed Xander re-entering her apartment, his ripped t-shirt hanging off his shoulders. She surprised herself by practically running to his side.

"Have you seen Tara, is she okay?" Willow demanded as she seized him by the forearm.

Her surprised intensified as Xander jerked him arm away, there was an angry look in his eyes that Willow had not seen for a long time. Not since he found out she drove home from a party while drunk and stoned six months ago. It was a look of anger mingled with disappointment and frustration, and it immediately had its intended effect. Willow released her grip on his arm and dropped her gaze. She was ashamed and embarrassed, and did not at all like the way it felt. With some effort, she managed to rebuild the walls she kept around her inner emotions; her toes squirming in her five hundred dollar shoes became the only outward sign of her discomfort.

"I just put Tara in a taxi," Xander admitted in a harsh voice. He let out a ragged sigh as he stared at his best friend, waiting for her to look him in the eye. When Willow didn't he continued in a disappointed voice, "You know, I always think that one day you'll grow up, one day you'll realise that your actions have consequences for other people as well as yourself."

Willow finally jerked her head up, there was a fire in her eyes that Xander was all too accustomed to seeing. "Why the fuck should I? I don't want or need help from anyone else, and nor I am gonna give it, everyone should know that about me!"

"Will," Xander grabbed her arm and tried to drag her out of the middle of the room before she could make a scene. He pulled her into a corner of the room but she continued to stare at him defiantly. "Tara doesn't know that about you, and she's far too kind to just assume it."

"Yeah well, blondie needs to grow up," Willow replied in an angry mumble. "Here I was just wanting a good time and she bloody well thinks we're going steady or some shit like that."

"You should be flattered that she would think that," Xander said in an annoyingly calm voice. "Which, by the way, I'm sure she doesn't."

"Flattered?" Willow snorted disdainfully. "I can get any chick I want. Why the fuck would I be interested in some prudish geek who's…" Willow's anger slipped in the middle of her tirade against Tara, a part of her knew the blonde didn't deserve any of this but her stubborn pride meant that she couldn't back down, _oh god, what the fuck am I saying…am I seriously going to say she's not gorgeous_? "Who's…not even that hot?" Willow finished in a barely convincing voice.

Xander wasn't fooled; he gently reached up to gently cup his friend's face in his palm. "Because of the way she makes you feel."

"How? Fucking frustrated?" Willow whispered as her walls started to crumble. She suddenly felt a strange burning sensation in her eyes.

Willow blinked furiously a couple of times before she realised she was started to cry, when Xander brushed away one of the tears with a gentle wipe of his thumb she jerked away suddenly. She discreetly scrubbed at her eyes until all vestiges of tears were gone before she looked at Xander again.

"You're totally ruining my fun, Xander," she growled, trying to inject an element of enthusiasm into her voice. She drew close to him again and patted at the pockets of his jeans. "You got any party favours?"

Xander pulled away from her desperate searching. "I don't think you should, Will. Maybe you should go to bed?"

"Maybe you're the one that should go to bed, party pooper!" Willow grunted in annoyance. "I'm going to find a friend who isn't such a tight wad, and then I'm going to find myself a girl who will actually put out."

Willow grimaced as she thought of Tara yet again. She turned her back on Xander who was still staring at her with an annoying pitying look on his face and went in search of a drink and something a little more potent that would guarantee to take her mind off that damn blonde.

It took her just a few minutes to find what she wanted…and a few minutes after that she had managed to banish all depressing thoughts from her mind as she gave herself over to the thrill of being surrounded by life and excitement…even if it was only the chemically induced kind.

* * *

Throughout the whole taxi ride home, Tara had to deflect each of the taxi driver's increasingly inappropriate questions about her swiftly swelling eye and split lip. She was so eager to get out of the taxi when he finally pulled up in front of her building that she ended up giving him a thoroughly undeserved tip by telling him to keep the change. Thankfully she managed to sneak into her building without being seen by any of her prying neighbours. Sulking back to her apartment looking like she'd been in a bar fight wasn't exactly Tara's ideal way to return home after a night out.

Once safely inside her apartment, she stumbled from her front door towards her bedroom with detours on the way to down a glass of water in the kitchen and to bang her shins against the couch in the dark. A part of her knew she ought to at least get some ice on her puffy eye but that seemed like more effort than she could muster…and she had absolutely no desire to look at her face in the mirror.

En-route to her bed she managed to tug off her shoes and pull her debit card out of the pocket of her jeans. She was still fumbling for her cell when she tumbled into bed. Even as she hit the sheets she continued to search for it. However, a search of every pocket turned up fruitless and the last thought on her mind before she fell asleep was: _Fuck, I've left my cell at her house…_


	7. I arise from dreams of thee

**Chapter Seven**

**I arise from dreams of thee**

The Sunday morning dawned bright. It was unusually warm and windless for a winter's day in Wellington. Although Tara was not burdened with a hangover she did bear the physical evidence of the previous night's antics in the form of a swollen lip and a rather impressive black eye. She spent much of the morning pacing her apartment - weighing up the pros and cons of retrieving her phone from Willow's apartment or simply forgetting about it. The latter course of action was tempting but her practical sense reminded her that the little device was stuffed with vital contact details. It was almost lunchtime when Tara finally made her decision. As much as she hated her iPhone, she had to admit she couldn't do without it.

With her eye safely hidden behind a pair of glasses Tara, for the second time in as many days, found herself in front of Willow Rosenberg's apartment building. It was the last place she wanted to revisit, especially after her vow never to see the redhead again. With a determined sigh, she squared her shoulders and bravely marched up the steps.

Tara ran her finger down the list of names stabbed her finger on the button next to 'W. Rosenberg.' She waited with baited breath to hear Willow's husky tones on the other end of the intercom – which were probably even huskier after the night's revelry. No one answered her first buzz. After daring to press the button once more, Tara was about to turn and leave when she heard a quiet voice behind her.

"Are you after Willow?"

Slightly startled, Tara turned to see a slight man with sandy coloured hair who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was standing at the bottom of the steps with a large bag of groceries in each hand. Upon seeing his pleasant, smiling…and somewhat familiar face, she relaxed slightly but still remained wary as he walked up the steps to join her in standing by the door.

"Um, yeah," Tara began. "I'm a friend…" _Are we really friends? I have a pretty good idea of what friendship is…and whatever the fuck is going on between me and Willow, it's not friendship._ "I left my phone…"

"You were at Xander's party? It's Tara, right?" he added in the silence as Tara's voice trailed off. At Tara's confused nod he continued quickly with an explanation, "Umm, you fell and I caught you…but you probably don't remember me. I kinda keep a low profile at parties so I won't be offended if you don't. I have a rather forgettable face."

Tara smiled apologetically as she finally did recognise the young man who had caught her on the dance floor. "I honestly do remember you, but I'm sorry, I'm coming up all blank when it comes to your name."

"S'okay, it's Karl. We were never actually introduced anyway," he answered with a shrug. "You said something about leaving your cell? Do you want to follow me up?"

It's was Tara's turn to shrug as she glanced at her watch to see it was almost 1pm. "I guess I can come up and see if she's awake."

Karl swiped them both into the building and they moved towards the elevator. As Tara came closer to seeing Willow again, she felt a mixture of nerves and anger course through her body. The sadistic part of her simply wanted to have another chance to look at the gorgeous redhead. The rational, sensible adult was fixated on the shame of the previous evening and the way Willow had treated her. She made up her mind to retrieve her cell and leave, effectively ending her 'relationship' with Willow Rosenberg.

"Tara?"

Tara jerked out of her thoughts and realised that Karl was speaking to her. She turned and flashed another quick smile. "Sorry, I was off in my own little world…"

He nodded and swallowed awkwardly. It was then that Tara noticed he appeared a little nervous.

"Are you okay? I mean, I was trying not to pay attention, but you know, I heard the commotion…and then Xander told me what happened between you and Kelly's fist."

Tara nodded even though her eye was throbbing painfully as a constant remainder of the disaster that last night had been, and she was more than sick of all the stares she was getting. She realised she still had her sunglasses on and removed them, tucking them into her bag. She turned her cheek slightly so Karl could not see the full extent of her black eye but his sincerity and concern put her somewhat at ease.

"Um…please don't take this the wrong way but you're gay right?" Karl suddenly blurted out. He looked away as he said it. For a moment he pretended to be extremely interested in the elevator's control panel as he selected the floor number.

Tara couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. "Um…yeah, I am."

Karl's cheeks continued to pulse bright pink as he explained further. "I'm terribly sorry, I'm not usually so forward…and stalkerish, but I didn't want the opportunity to pass me by again. I was going to talk to you last night, but then Willow came along and pretty much ruined any chance at a normal conversation. Then you made a pretty hasty exit after what happened."

Tara forced herself to smile. She had to admit to herself that she was a little flattered. "I'm sorry we didn't chat. You no doubt would have been a better conversationalist than most people there."

"You're not bisexual by any chance?" he asked hopefully as the elevator's bell let them know they had arrived at their destination.

"One hundred percent, unadulterated lesbo here," Tara explained diplomatically. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind, she had been making a mental note to tell Faith that there had been at least one cute straight guy at the party when she realised a perfect opportunity was standing right in front of her. Even though she didn't feel like doing her best friend any favours after being stood up, Tara was feeling particularly audacious for some reason.

"Hey." Tara stopped him half way down the corridor with a gentle tug on his sleeve. "I hope you don't think I'm the one being forward now, but I think you might enjoy meeting my best friend, Faith. She's a banking lawyer but I wouldn't hold that against her."

Karl flashed a pleased smile and balanced his groceries in one hand as he dug in his pocket. Moments later he came up with a business card which he handed to Tara.

She glanced at it before tucking it in the pocket of her jeans. "Mortgage broker? My instincts were right. You would be perfect for each other." There was also a small picture of him on his card which Tara thought was a good likeness. Faith usually dated a different kind of guy but Tara reasoned that if Faith could make judgements about her love life, then she could do the same.

"I won't be offended if she takes one look and says 'no way in hell' but whatever." Karl shrugged. He was obviously trying to be nonchalant about it. He readjusted his groceries before glancing back up at Tara. "So…you and Willow?"

Tara lifted her eyebrows quizzically. "Willow and I?"

"You're seeing her…or you want to be seeing her?" Karl asked.

"No!" Tara replied a little too quickly. "I mean, no to both questions…we're just…I mean, we just had…"

Karl interrupted her nervous, stunted explanation with a knowing nod. "Sorry, stupid question. Willow is…well, she's Willow. It's just that I've known her a long time. I mean, I've lived on her floor for almost six years and, to put it politely, I've seen a lot of girls come and go. I barely know you, but somehow I can tell you're different to all the rest."

Tara coloured slightly and ducked her head. She didn't know whether to start explaining that she was just here for her iPhone. After the offending little device was safely back in her possession, she intended to severe all contact with Willow Rosenberg.

"I'm not judging her though," Karl continued quickly. "She's been through a lot…especially after what happened with her parents – that would be enough to freak anyone out for life. Xander does his best to keep her grounded but she really needs someone - " he paused and looked slightly embarrassed "-What am I saying? It's really not my place at all. I'm going to leave you alone so you can find your phone."

Tara frowned at Karl's odd choice of words but she did not press for explanations. After she promised to pass his business card onto Faith, he turned and headed for his own apartment. He left Tara alone in the corridor to ponder what he might have been about to say. Although she dismissed it as none of her business either, a small nagging thought remained at the back of her mind and she knew she wouldn't be able to help but dwell on it later. She sighed with trepidation as she approached Willow's door. She knocked tentatively at first, and then a little louder when she received no reply. Although Tara knew she should come back at another time, she found herself pushing the door open and entering the apartment.

"Willow?" Tara called, receiving nothing but silence in reply.

In direct contrast to the previous evening, the apartment was devoid of life. However, the evidence of a full-blown party covered almost every available surface. Empty bottles, food scraps, several items of clothing and a pile of something that Tara knew she would not even want to poke with a stick.

"Willow?" Tara called again. Frowning, she picked her way through the mess that littered the floor to Willow's bedroom. The bed was empty although the sheets were tossed about as though there had been an energetic bout of sex at some stage. As her cheeks coloured with the knowledge that it could so easily have been her, Tara turned to leave. However as she did she caught sight of a familiar object tucked beneath the corner of a pillow on the floor. She crossed the floor and stooped to retrieve it, relieved to find that it was indeed her iPhone. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of an outstretched hand around the corner of the bed and almost let out a small gasp of fright. She scooped the phone up quickly and darted around the corner of the bed to find Willow lying on her back on the floor beside the bed, as though she had fallen off it at some stage during the night. Tara's first terrible thought was that she was dead but then she saw the gentle rise and fall of Willow's chest and let out a sigh of relief. Not dead, just dead drunk.

"Willow?" Tara ventured quietly as she knelt beside the sleeping woman. She waited a few moments before trying again, this time calling out a little louder. "Willow…it's Tara."

As soon as she said her name, the redhead lying on the floor stirred slightly, and at a further prodding from Tara she awoke altogether. Willow sat up with a sudden movement, stared straight ahead for a few seconds and then let out a tortured groan as the full effects of her hangover hit. She slumped sideways and lent against the bed as a means of holding herself upright as she cocked open an eye to stare at Tara.

"You stuck around this time," Willow whispered, closing her eyes as the light became a little too much for her.

"I didn't stay," Tara said firmly. She didn't want to give Willow the impression that there had been a repeat occurrence of the previous weekend. "And nothing happened. At least not after your psycho ex showed up and did her best to try and put me in the hospital."

Willow opened her eyes again, this time for a few seconds longer and they widened at the sight of Tara's black eye and split lip. "Oh god…shit…I'm so sorry, Tara. Fucking Kelly is the ex from hell. She snapped so quickly, I couldn't stop her."

Had the situation been different, Tara could have laughed at Willow's efforts to pull herself to her feet. She had braced her hands against the mattress but could not even raise herself into a kneeling position.

She sighed. "Well, I've piled on enough ice to make a dozen slushies so I think I'll live, but you look like death warmed up. If I were a vindictive person, I'd say you thoroughly deserve it."

"Can you be vindictive after you help me into bed?" Willow asked desperately.

Trying to keep things professional, Tara placed her arms around Willow's waist and gently lifted her into bed. Willow flopped face forward, her barely covered arse sticking up in the air. Swallowing awkwardly at the sight of the perfectly rounded piece of flesh, Tara quickly helped her to lie down and drew the covers up over her. She didn't even want to think about helping Willow out of her clothes.

"I knew it though," Willow whispered after a few moments, her voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

Tara didn't take the bait immediately but after it became clear that Willow was not going to elaborate without prompting she replied, "Knew what?"

Willow turned her head slightly so Tara could see the smile on her face. "That you couldn't resist me."

_There's no way in hell I'm going to let her know she's right._ "I'm afraid you're under the wrong impression," Tara said firmly even as she wondered just how it was possible for anyone waking up after a hangover to look so damn good. "I misplaced my cell."

The smile faded from Willow's face as she caught sight of Tara's iPhone being waved in front of her face. "And here I was thinking you liked me or something."

"Well, frankly…you're a bitch," Tara replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Thanks," Willow muttered wryly. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."

Tara frowned, she didn't know Willow well enough to figure out if she was serious or not. However the smug smile on her face said that she probably was. She felt a sudden surge of anger and frustration as she struggled to comprehend how someone could be so completely oblivious to the normal rules of social interaction. In Willow's case, Tara thought that she was probably totally aware of appropriate behaviour but chose not to comply. She obviously considered herself above the rules. Typical spoilt rich girl behaviour.

"It wasn't meant to be a compliment," Tara was unable to resist a reply even though she had no expectations of being able to single-handedly change the way that Willow Rosenberg viewed the world. She did feel that she was entitled to give the girl a piece of her mind. "Being a bitch is not something you should aspire to. It means that any friends you think you have are only after you for your money, or your good looks."

Unfazed by Tara's reprimand, Willow grinned. "So you'll admit I'm gorgeous?"

"Gorgeous…and completely conceited," Tara replied honestly.

Willow's nose wrinkled into a scowl when she realised Tara was being completely serious. "Is there a point to your little tirade…or are you just trying to make me feel even worse than I already do?"

_Just give up Tara, there's nothing you could say or do to change her_. "I'm not trying to do anything…"

"You're trying to sound like a fucking saint," Willow growled, her fingers grasped at her sheets as she tried to tug them up over her head.

_Compared to you, I'm the bloody pope…if the pope were a woman…and a lesbian._ Tara had no desire to be condescending but she was confused by her desire to get Willow to admit something, anything about the person she was, _I've known her for a week and already I think I can make judgements on her life?_ "I'm just going to leave…it's been real nice knowing you, Willow."

As Tara moved away from the bed, she saw Willow try to lift her head from the pillow. There was a sudden groan that made her stop and turn back to the bed. If it were possible, Willow's face had gone an even whiter shade of pale.

"Shit…I'm gonna hurl," Willow mumbled, her arms worked beneath the sheets as she tried to throw the covers back. She merely succeeded in tangling herself in the fabric.

Tara sighed and swept them back for her. She gathered the weak woman in her arms and half-carried, half-dragged her into the nearby ensuite just in time to avoid a nasty accident.

"Oh god…that is disgusting." Tara winced as she quickly turned away when Willow's small body heaved violently; seemingly emptying the entire contents of her stomach in one go. Although she blocked out the sight of it, she could not turn off the awful retching sound. Obviously there was still more to come up as she heard Willow heave again.

Unable to remain immune to the suffering going on next to her, Tara turned to see Willow with her face practically in the toilet bowl, her hair hanging in lank strands in front of her face. Although she knew Willow didn't deserve her help in the least, Tara reached out to sweep her hair out of her face as she continued to vomit. Her gastronomic pyrotechnics were punctuated by groans and sharp gasps of air, continuing for almost a minute before they subsided and her breathing returned to normal.

Willow slumped backwards and came to rest against the shower stall behind her, through glazed eyes she stared up at Tara with an indecipherable expression on her face. Tara found the expression unnerving and she looked away with the pretence of flushing the toilet and fetching a damp cloth from the basin.

She passed it down to Willow with some sage advice. "I'd highly recommend brushing your teeth unless you want to wake up and find little, furry chunks stuck between them."

"Thanks for that. "Willow groaned as she dragged the cloth over her face, after wiping her lips she let it fall to the floor. "If you hate me so much then why the hell are you still here?"

"I never used the word hate. Conceited bitch, definitely, but not hate," Tara explained as she helped Willow to her feet. Although Willow was still half drunk and more than a little smelly, she felt her heart beat a little faster at their close proximity. Although she realised a few moments later as she helped Willow stand to brush her teeth, that it was probably just physical exertion.

With her head bent low over the basin as she scrubbed her teeth, Willow continued to talk, although it was more of a mumble. "You're…oo…ice."

_I know I'm too nice!_, "Yeah," Tara whispered as she stared at herself in the mirror opposite, her swollen eye seemed to be all she could see. "I get told that a lot."

Willow spat out her toothpaste with a weak 'phffft' sound and glanced up as well. She immediately screwed her face up when confronted with her appearance and quickly turned her attention to Tara's reflection. After a few moments of thought, she nodded thoughtfully. "You know. I was wrong last night, you really are hot."

"And you're still drunk," Tara replied, her quick reply effectively covering her embarrassment as a result of Willow's sudden announcement, even though she didn't quite understand why Willow was admitting such a thing.

With her sick charge moderately better off in terms of personal hygiene, Tara led her back towards the comfort of her bed.

As Tara helped her back through into the bedroom, she looked again at the state of Willow's trashed apartment, "You want me to help clean up a little?" Tara asked tentatively. She did not even want to contemplate how long it would take to scrub the unknown substances from the floor…or how many rubbish bags would be needed to cart away the uneaten food and empty bottles.

Willow glanced around for a second and lifted her eyebrows as though she was surprised to find her apartment in the state that it was. She then shrugged in an offhanded manner as though it really didn't concern her. "I'm sure you can pay people to do that."

With Willow tucked back into her bed, Tara paused for a moment. The redhead looked so small and helpless as she peered over the covers. For a moment, all Tara wanted was to fold up next to her and hold her until she went to sleep.

"You'll be okay?" Tara asked. She couldn't help but add a slight note of kindness to her voice. The first since she had started speaking to Willow.

Willow nodded. "Of course. No thanks to my own stupid actions."

"Well, you'll probably do it all over again next weekend," Tara shrugged.

"True," was Willow's honest reply, her voice lowered slightly as she continued. "Only next time you won't be here to sort me out the next morning."

Tara flushed, almost wishing she could. "You've got Xander. He seems like a good friend."

Willow let out a small groan at the mention of her best friend. "Oh god, he's going to be so pissed…I think I went off at him."

When Willow rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, obviously contemplating how much damage she had done to her relationship with Xander, Tara turned to leave. She glanced back over her shoulder, "Well…I'll see you then."

There was a slight rustling of covers as Willow rolled back towards Tara and asked hopefully, "That's a promise? You'll be seeing me?"

_Wrong choice of words._ "Not if I can help it."

With those words, Tara left Willow to her recovery sleep and closed the bedroom door behind her. However, just as she was about to exit the apartment, a thought flashed into her head that made her stop in her tracks. She felt hot and cold all at once and couldn't quite bring herself to believe that she was even contemplating her next action. Drawing a deep breath, Tara spun around and immediately made a beeline for the magnetic whiteboard stuck to Willow's fridge. With a decisive movement, she plucked the pen from its clip, and abruptly stopped. Her bout of hesitation involved replacing the pen twice and even taking a few steps away from the fridge before she finally took the plunge and hastily scribbled her number on the whiteboard with an 'T' next to it. Before she could change her mind, Tara replaced the pen and practically ran out of the apartment. As she walked, she couldn't help but fear that she had just issued an open invitation to the devil herself.

As she moved outside and felt the sun's warmth fall on her skin, Tara finally glanced down at her phone to see a whole batch of missed calls, most were from Faith, and one from her mother. She immediately decided that her mother could wait and called Faith, knowing that her friend would have been worried when she didn't show last night.

"What the hell happened to you last night?" was Faith's immediate question.

"Let's just say, through no fault of my own, I ended up going to that party after all," Tara admitted.

Faith immediately let out an excited gasp. "My god, Tara. You got drunk and fucked Willow again didn't you? Why am I never around whenever you do anything remotely cool?"

Tara snorted in disgust, annoyed that her friend would think so poorly of her standards of decency. "No to both of your unladylike observations! After last weekend's effort, I decided that sobriety would be the best course of action…and I did not sleep with that woman!"

Faith wasn't convinced. "Then why do you sound like you've gone a couple of rounds with a bottle of Smirnoff?"

"I'm fine, honestly," was all Tara would say, _And you're not coming to visit until this black eye has disappeared completely!_

"You're hiding something!" Faith growled suspiciously.

"I'm hiding nothing!" Tara protested, hating the sound of the lie. "Listen, I've got a really busy week ahead with editing the new book."

Faith sighed. "I know what you mean…I think I'm going to be putting in a full eighty hour work week just to keep my head above my in tray…I'll catch you soon okay? And let me know if there are any more developments with your love life!"

Tara feigned an innocent sounding laugh before hanging up. She then turned and glanced back at Willow's building in the distance. Second thoughts were definitely coursing through her mind. She badly wanted to run back and completely erase her number from the board, and yet she couldn't help but replay Karl's words in her mind. _She's been through a lot...she really needs someone_. Tara desperately wanted to know what it was that had made Willow Rosenberg into the woman/bitch/slut/goddess that she was. There was even a part of her that wanted to help.

_Yup, that's real good Tara. You of all people designating yourself her saviour. You wouldn't leave your apartment if Faith didn't force you to. Face it, you're just as fucked up as she is._ With a sigh Tara put on her sunglasses and resumed walking towards home. A few moments later she couldn't help but shake her head discreetly. _No one is as fucked up as she is. Not even you._

At that point in time the real crux of her thinking became all too clear. Why on earth did she care so much about helping Willow Rosenberg?


	8. Of the Night for the Morrow

**Chapter Eight**

**Of the Night for the Morrow**

Xander heard the determined whine of a vacuum cleaner before he had even opened the door to Willow's apartment. Sure enough, when he pushed the door and entered, he found at least three liveried cleaners all hard at work on various tasks. They were all too busy even to acknowledge him with more than a glance. There were several full rubbish bags sitting by the door as well as a large recycling bin almost overflowing with empty bottles and cans. Xander reflected momentarily, it had been a good party. Or at least it had been a good party until Kelly showed up and goaded Willow into reverting back to her old self, selfish and arrogant to the core. He peered into the bedroom but found the bed empty and neatly made. It was certainly not the result of Willow's handiwork. When he crossed back into the main living area, he noticed the sliding doors leading out onto the deck were open.

"Will?" He had to practically yell so his voice would lift over the noise of the cleaners.

"Out here!" He heard a voice call from beyond the sliding doors.

Xander stepped out into the bright sunlight and he paused to admire the view. It was breathtaking as always. Wellington city sat to his left and the lush green hills of the mountains on the other side of the city were in direct contrast with the rich blue of the harbour. From this distance the houses nestled amongst the trees were mere little specks. Xander looked to his left and the sparkling harbour continued onwards until it met the suburb of Petone. Beyond, were more mountains sheltering and protecting the almost completely enclosed harbour.

It was only after Xander had taken in the view that he looked down and found Willow Rosenberg reclining on a deck chair. Although the winter sun was hardly fierce enough for tanning, she wore just a bikini top and a sarong wrapped around her midriff. She peered up at him from behind her large sunglasses and took a sip from a tall glass.

"Drinking already, Will? It's only mid-morning" Xander growled lightly.

Willow looked mildly affronted. "It's only lemon, lime and bitters. Still a few hours early for the hard stuff…even for me."

Xander did not look in the least bit convinced as he took up a perch on the empty chair next to Willow. With a quick darting movement, he snatched the drink from her and took a sip himself. As the cool liquid slid down his throat he confirmed its contents as non-alcoholic and took a much larger gulp, draining almost half the glass before handing it back to her. Willow scowled like a small child and claimed it back. As she did, he noticed something scrawled on the back of her left hand in thick black pen. Gently, he took hold of her small wrist and saw, upon closer inspection, that it was a cell phone number.

"This is highly uncharacteristic," Xander smirked. "You fucked a girl and then got her number?"

Willow snatched her wrist away with another scowl. "Don't you have work or something?" she demanded angrily.

"Acknowledging that some of us have to work for a living are we?" Xander lifted his eyebrows. He glanced casually at his watch. "A couple of my morning clients cancelled and I reshuffled the others so I could spend time with my favourite girl. I've got a few hours before I have to be at the gym."

From the resulting expression on Willow's face he couldn't tell whether she was pleased or annoyed. He wasn't about to let her avoid the topic of the number on her hand. It was also then that he noticed her own cell was sitting in her lap, as though she had been debating whether or not to call the number. He didn't allow his mind to immediately run away with speculation, it could just as easily be her shrink or gynaecologist or any number of professionals who were at her beck and call. He did however notice the red flush in her cheeks and decided to take a stab at a name.

"It's Tara's number isn't it?" he asked casually.

His bold move was rewarded with a marked increase in colouring and a rather terse reply. "It's not!"

"It is too!" he announced immediately, unable to hide his surprise at being completely right. "When did she give it to you because she sure as hell didn't give it to you on Saturday night…and don't lie or I'll know!"

Willow sighed with immense faux suffering and drained what remained of her drink. "She left her cell here…so came and picked it up yesterday morning." Willow replied, deliberately omitting the more gruesome elements of the story involving her heaving up the entire contents of her gut while Tara held her hair back.

It didn't take Xander long to think this through and he frowned in disbelief. "So Tara just turned up here, the day after your ex bashed the crap out of her and she'd forgotten all about it?"

"Ummm," Willow twisted her lips into the reluctant grimace she used when she didn't want to admit something. "Not exactly…she called me a bitch."

"That's putting it politely!" Xander was quick to add. "You were way out of line! Please tell me you apologised profusely?"

Willow nodded half-heartedly as she turned to look at Xander. He was grinning like a cat caught in the cream. "I honestly don't know why you're so pleased. I do know exactly what you're thinking though, Xander Harris…and it's not going to work."

Xander folded his arms across his chest in a challenging manner. "Okay, what am I thinking?"

"You think Tara Maclay is going to be a calming influence in my life. That she's going to make me settle down and sort my act out, and so on and so forth," Willow answered in a bored voice.

"So, what's wrong with that?" Xander shrugged, seemingly unconcerned that she had seen straight through his plans.

"Well, for a start, I'm too young to settle down…" Willow began.

Xander interrupted her. "You're twenty-six."

"My point exactly, why the fuck should I be settling down?" she fired back.

Xander drew in a deep breath and paused before he replied, "Will, you're never going to end up like your Mother."

Willow scowled uncomfortably. "Please, I know I'm nothing like my mother. Could we just quit this interrogation? Tara hates my guts, so regardless of how hot she is, whatever was going on between us is over before it even began."

Xander retrieved her hand, holding it gently between both of his own as he ran his thumb across the soft skin on the back of her hand and the number marked there. "She gave you her number didn't she?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows in expectation of her reply.

When Willow said nothing, he simply picked up her cell phone. Holding the back of her hand so he could see the number, he punched it into the cell before she realised what he was doing. As Willow waved her hand desperately as an indication for him to stop, he continued to dial and then finally stabbed down his thumb on 'talk.' Willow shrank back as he held it out for her to take but then she darted forward and snatched it from his hands. Before it could ring again she hung up and clutched the phone to her chest.

She pointed her finger angrily at Xander. "Keep your hands off! I'm not fucking calling Tara!"

Xander sighed and stood up, smoothing his hands on the thighs of his perfectly faded jeans. "I'm going to make myself a coffee. You can sit here and think about making the best call you'll ever make."

Willow sneered at him as he turned to walk indoors with a last cheesy wink in her direction. She felt like throwing the phone at him. With Xander gone, she was left to sit and stare at the number on the back of her hand. She remembered the surprise she had felt at seeing it written on her white board in the first place and then she had spent most of the morning trying to deduce Tara's reasons for leaving it. The blonde had made her disapproval of both her and her lifestyle abundantly clear…and yet there was the damn number. _What the hell kind of game are you playing, Tara Maclay?_

* * *

While Willow was sunning herself on the deck of her apartment, Tara was ensconced in a meeting with Bridget Williams, her publisher. She had concocted a bare-faced lie involving a particularly vicious game of squash to explain away her injuries. One which she was sure Bridget could see right through, she knew full well that Tara detested playing sport of any kind. Still the lie was accepted with a little good-natured ribbing and they settled to work.

Tara was usually overly attentive during her meetings with Bridget, paying attention to everything her publisher said, especially at this time when the manuscript was nearing its final edited state. However, she found it difficult to care about her work enough to listen to Bridget. The tiny words on the page with the harsh red lines making corrections and additions all merged into a formless blur in front of her unfocused eyes. The only thing that she could seem to concentrate on was the haughty, smirking face of Willow Rosenberg…interspersed with images of the same woman face down in the toilet. She was one very formidable and yet oddly vulnerable woman.

"Tara?"

It had been plainly obvious from the start that Willow was the sort of person that should be avoided, and yet Tara was inexplicably drawn to her. She sighed; it was ridiculous at the least and insanity inducing at the most.

"Tara!"

Finally hearing her name called, Tara jerked her head up to see Bridget glaring at her over the top of her glasses. Tara smiled apologetically and tried to turn her attention back to the manuscript.

Bridget continued, "I honestly think chapter fourteen would work better as two separate chapters, there's a natural break just here…"

Tara let Bridget's words drift over her head as she settled back into her Willow filled day dream, she couldn't care less about where the chapter breaks were at this point even though she distantly remembering agonizing over that chapter break herself and ultimately deciding that it was best as one uninterrupted narrative. She knew she ought to disagree with Bridget and get her point of view across but instead she just nodded absently at every word she said.

It was only when Bridget threw her pen down atop the manuscript that Tara glanced up again. She bit her lip at the angry expression on her publisher's face.

"Bridget…I'm sorry, I guess I'm having a little trouble concentrating at the moment," Tara admitted in a weary voice.

Bridget sighed. "If you're not ready to be back doing this…"

"I told you I was fine," Tara interrupted; fully knowing that it was not Audrey who occupied her thoughts.

"Well you're not acting like Tara. You're acting like some spaced out zombie who'd rather be doing anything else," Bridget answered. She removed her glasses and put them down on the desk as though signalling that their work was done. "What's up with you? Your work is important to you but you're acting like you don't care…and I can't help but think that you haven't allowed yourself enough time to cope with losing Audrey…"

_There's someone else._ As she stared at Bridget from the other side of the table, Tara could only think the words that she wanted to say. Instead she collected her manuscript and other assorted things together and stood up to leave. "I'll have the changes reviewed by tomorrow and get them couriered over to you."

"Take a couple of days…" Bridget began.

Tara shook her head stubbornly. "It will be tomorrow. I'm sorry for wasting your time today."

She breathed a massive sigh of relief as she exited Bridget's office and practically ran down the stairs, past reception and out into the fresh air. Her Mazda was parked just outside Asteron publishing. She lent against the car for a few moments as she tried to collect her wits to the point where she could trust herself driving. A part of her felt as though she were deceiving Bridget. Her publisher could see that something was not right. She was giving her all the time and space she needed because she thought it was Audrey. Tara knew she couldn't bring herself to burst this little illusion and tell her it was merely because she had met someone who threw her life into utter chaos. Then again, she could not deny that everything began with Audrey's death. Tara frowned; perhaps the conflicted thoughts that seemed to occupy her thoughts constantly were just a symptom of unreleased grief.

Finally she realised that she was still standing deep in thought next to her car, looking like a complete idiot. Just as she unlocked her car, the shrill tones of her iPhone interrupted her and she fished it out of her bag. She frowned for a moment at the number that she did not recognise.

As she pulled the key out of the lock and went to open her car door, Tara tucked her iPhone beneath her ear and answered, "Hello, Tara Maclay."

"Hey…Tara. It's Willow, Willow Rosenberg." The voice on the other end of the line was tentative, it sounded almost nothing like the confident redhead that Tara had unfortunately come to know.

"O-Oh…" Tara spluttered. Her hand had been poised on the door handle, awkwardly gripping her keys. In her shock she let her hand fall and promptly dropped the keys on the ground. They landed with a clatter at her feet as she continued to stand, trying desperately to think of something to say. "Hi," was the best she could come up with. Tara slapped her palm against her forehead, annoyed at her not-so-brilliant choice of words.

"You left your number," Willow pointed out helpfully.

"Yeah…I know," Tara replied, further proving her brilliant conversational skills.

"Why did you?" Willow asked quietly. When she received nothing but a stunned silence from Tara, she continued, "I thought after Saturday that you wouldn't want to see me again, then you show up on Sunday morning…and you leave your number which is a good sign that you do want to see me again. I'm beginning to think something weird is up with you, Tara Maclay."

"Nothing!" Tara squeaked quickly and loudly, "There's nothing weird…I-I…"

She gulped and fumbled for a better choice of words before she realised that she was standing in public and people were beginning to stare. Before she could attract any more unwanted attention, she retrieved her car keys and slipped into the car.

"So, I was thinking something simple…like coffee," Willow announced suddenly.

She gave Tara such a fright that she banged her head on the roof of her car before sitting.

"Coffee?" Tara repeated as she rubbed her smarting forehead. "Coffee as in you and me drinking it together? That sort of coffee?"

"Well, yeah…unless you had another reason for leaving your number?" Willow asked. "You know, if you want we could skip the coffee altogether and go straight for hot gay lovin'…"

"No!" Tara almost yelled, she gulped slightly as a hot flush crept up her neck. "I mean, coffee would be fine." _Gah, what am I saying…do I really want to sit down and have coffee with that woman?_

"Great, how are you placed Friday morning, say 11-ish?" Willow asked expectantly.

_Meeting with Whitcoulls about my latest book signing,_ Tara instantly recalled the appointment without even needing to look in her diary. However she thought of postponing it without any qualms whatsoever. "Friday at 11am is fine."

"Great, how's Café L'Affare?" Willow named a swanky inner city coffee house that served the best coffee in town and did an excellent brunch.

"Café L'Affare it is," Tara confirmed as though her responses were automatic. She was still struggling to process the fact that she was going out for coffee with Willow Rosenberg. It was so normal, so civilised, so not what she had come to expect from the redhead.

Tara hung up and sat in her car just staring at her phone as though trying to work out whether the conversation had actually taken place. She checked and the number was there in her incoming calls. A few moments later and the number was added to the contacts in her IPhone. Tara drew a deep breath as she pressed 'save.' It was taking things to a whole new level, one that she was sure she was not prepared to go….at least not with Willow Rosenberg.


	9. If Winter comes can Spring be far Behind

**~ Chapter Nine~**

**If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?**

For the third time in less than two minutes Tara glanced at her watch. Besides the painstakingly slow passage of those two minutes, nothing had changed and Willow Rosenberg was still over half an hour late. Tara sighed and glanced down at her almost empty chai latte, she drained the cold dregs in the bottom and no sooner had she set the cup down than it was whisked away by a busy waiter. She couldn't help but notice the haughty glance he flicked in her direction as he passed that clearly said he thought she had occupied valuable space for too long. Customers from a nearby table had asked fifteen minutes earlier if they could take the empty chair opposite her, to which she replied that someone was joining her. She couldn't help but feel that they were now staring at her and whispering amongst themselves that she was merely pretending to be waiting for a friend.

She had sent Willow a text message twenty minutes ago, saying nothing more than the fact that she had arrived at the café. Willow's 'great, c u sn' had come back rather quickly. However, twenty minutes didn't exactly fit Tara's definition of 'soon.' With a sigh, she scraped her chair back and got up to leave. At precisely that moment the gorgeous but flustered form of Willow Rosenberg sauntered into the café. Despite her slightly red cheeks, her hair and clothing were immaculate. As she sat down, Tara caught the distinct whiff of perfume mingled with fresh shampoo and expensive hair products. Her suspicions as to where Willow had been were to be shortly confirmed by the girl herself.

"I've had the worst morning!" Willow moaned as soon as she sat down in the chair opposite.

Tara would have cast a smug glance in the direction of the nearby table who were no doubt all glancing over their shoulders at the beautiful newcomer but she was much too preoccupied with staring at Willow. At the mere sight of her, she promptly forgot just how angry she had been at being left to sit alone and stared at for the past thirty minutes. Instead she paced her elbow in the edge of the table and propped her chin up with her hand…very close to drooling over the significant amount of bare skin displayed by the plunging v-neck of Willow's sweater.

"Gustav took simply ages to do my hair this morning, and then when I walked out of the salon I realised the cut just wasn't sitting right. I had to march back in and demand he touch it up."

Willow patted at her perfectly arranged curls with a scowl on her face as though they still weren't sitting right and then she finally looked up at Tara. The dreamy eyed stare was dismantled in an instant as Tara sat up and whipped her elbow off the table, trying to look somewhat pissed off.

"I did think of calling, honestly but I was so distressed about my hair that it slipped my mind," Willow admitted. She then had the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "You've been waiting here since eleven? I should've called."

"It's no problem," Tara shrugged. "I don't have anything better to do than sit in a café all morning and have people stare at me."

"Tara Maclay, was that a sarcastic rebuke?" Willow whispered in a voice of mock horror. "I thoroughly expected to turn up and find you surrounded by a wall of admiring young women, all trying to get your number. At which point I would make my entrance, sweep through them all and say 'she's here with me ladies, piss off!' Or something to that effect."

"Well, obviously I am not quite that eligible," Tara replied. She was unable to resist a smile in the face of such an emphatic display, despite the fact that her rebuke had been tossed aside with such little regard. _She really is incorrigible!_ Tara thought with a slight shake of her head. However, she knew that she definitely would have felt a little thrill if Willow were to say 'she's here with me.'

Willow glanced around for the waiter and only to find that they were all occupied in the busy café, she turned her attention back to Tara. "I must admit that you fully occupied my thoughts before the disaster with my hair. I was thinking about just how little I know about you. Now I've finally got you all to myself, I can uncover the real Tara Maclay. For starters, I don't have the faintest idea what you do for a living."

"Um…I-I'm a writer," Tara managed to splutter, still dwelling on the fact that she had 'fully occupied' Willow's thoughts.

Willow momentarily lifted her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh well good then, I wasn't keeping you from going back to work. Unless you're a journalist, in which case I feel even worse. I've probably made you miss a deadline."

Tara shook her head. "No, no deadlines. Well, I do have deadlines but they're not often all that strict. I'm a novelist. Historical fiction mostly…ummm…Land of Fire, Passion in a Distant Land, Loss of Innocence…"

Willow shook her head with each title Tara reeled off. "Nope, haven't heard of any of them…but don't be offended. My reading material consists solely of Vogue, Cosmo and the gossip section of the Thursday edition of the Dominion Post…although I don't really read that, I just scan for pictures of me."

"Why am I not surprised," Tara muttered.

Her comment went unheard as Willow had already turned to try and catch the attention of the waiter once again. He finally saw her frantically waving hand and he practically ran to their table with a broad smile on his face.

"Will darling, how lovely to see you!" he exclaimed as he leaned down to deposit a kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you, Jonathan," Willow replied with a warm smile. "This is my dear friend, Tara Maclay."

Jonathan glanced across at Tara with a big smile on his face even though he had just spent the last half an hour practically ignoring her. "Tara, I must say, you have the loveliest eyes I've ever seen. Will, if you've managed to reel this one in then you had better do a good job of holding onto her!"

Tara ducked her head; cheeks turning red with embarrassment at the thought of being 'reeled in' by Willow.

"Tara and I are just friends," Willow replied.

Tara risked a brief glance up at Willow; she was hardly convinced by the manner in which Willow said 'just friends.' It was as though she said it, and meant something else entirely. She thought she saw the waiter, Jonathan, give Willow a little wink but she could not be sure. At any rate, she was already coming to the conclusion that the whole 'coffee' meeting had been a bad idea since inception. She once again regretted leaving her number on the whiteboard and knew that it would not be a mistake she made with the next gorgeous but shallow girl who walked into her life. _As if there will be a procession of gorgeous girls lining up to date me_, Tara groaned inwardly. This whole affair with Willow was beginning to show her exactly why she stayed with Audrey even after the cheating and being treated like crap. She was terrified she would never be able to find anyone else.

She then saw that both Willow and Jonathan were staring at her expectantly and she realised they were waiting for her to place an order. "Um, I'll have the pancakes with fruit and an orange juice." Her order was said quickly. After all, she'd had quite a while to peruse the menu and had decided what she wanted twenty minutes ago.

Jonathan left to place their orders and Tara was once again left with Willow. Even though they were sitting in the middle of a crowded café, she felt as though she was completely alone with Willow…such was the unnerving effect that she had on her. Tara shifted uncomfortably in her chair, crossing her legs beneath the table. Her heart almost stopped beating when she felt her foot brush up against something much too soft to be the leg of the table. She blushed a bright red and shifted again so her feet were as far away as possible from Willow's legs even though she was currently thinking of stripping off her shoes and running her bare feet down their length.

"So now I know you're a writer," Willow returned her attention to Tara. "And you're currently single."

"That sums me up nicely," Tara admitted with a small shrug.

"I don't think so," Willow replied, cocking her head to one side with an expression of interest. "I think there's much more to Tara Maclay."

Tara suddenly felt extremely special, as though once again she was the sole focus of Willow Rosenberg's attention. She was beginning to realise why so many girls would throw themselves at her feet. It wasn't just the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous, there was something magnetic about her.

"I'm actually kinda dull," Tara tried to admit.

"You, dull?" Willow lifted her eyebrows with incredulity. "C'mon, spill…let's start with something we both have in common. When did you first realise that you were gay?"

Tara coughed slightly at the unexpected question, even though she had been out for almost eight years she found herself looking around to see if anyone had overheard and was casting glances in her direction. Across the table from her, Willow had a broad smirk on her face.

"You are just too cute for words." She shook her head slowly. "It's 2012; no one's going to spit on you in disgust."

"You never know!" Tara replied.

Willow shrugged. "I've never been one for caution…as you might have guessed! So, spill, you were just about to tell me when you realised you were a big ol' dyke."

Tara couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "Um…high school I guess, there had been a few boyfriends but I was only ever an ornament to them, and they meant even less to me. None of them lasted longer than a few weeks. I used to clam up when they'd try and kiss me."

"Which of course led to you being labelled 'frigid'?" Willow suggested with a knowing nod.

"Um…yeah," Tara admitted. "My family is pretty religious though so that kind of explained it…but really I just wasn't into them in that way. Then during the summer holidays before my final year, I spent time at the beach with one of my best friends. She and I had always been close but…"

"Name?" Willow interrupted, as though Tara was skimping on the details.

"Fiona Rigby, but everyone called her Fi," Tara continued.

Willow pursed her lips together thoughtfully for a moment. "Nope, don't know her."

Tara frowned. "You can't possibly know every lesbian in New Zealand!"

"Well…most of 'em. The hot ones anyway," Willow grinned.

"Well, there's no chance in hell because she's not a lesbian. At least not anymore," Tara explained. Willow nodded knowingly again as she continued. "Anyway, the subject of boys came up as it always does and I admitted that I had very little interest in them…and even less in being kissed by them, or doing anything else at which point Fi flatly came out and asked if I was gay. She'd guessed before I even knew myself. Before I could even say anything she was kissing me and I was kissing her back…"

Tara paused during her story, she couldn't help but wonder why she was admitting some so fiercely private to someone she knew so little of. It had taken her almost a year before she told Audrey. Willow smiled encouragingly and Tara found she could continue almost easily,

"We were together for almost six months, until the school ball and she refused to go with me. She didn't want to be outed and labelled a 'dyke' in front of the whole high school." Tara sighed. "That was the end of it. A guy asked her to the ball and she ended up dating him. I didn't go. To make matters worse Fi blabbed to everyone that I was gay, the whole school, my parents, everyone knew…"

Tara trailed off with a slightly pained expression on her face. Even after all this time the memory of such a rejection from the first girl she had loved and lost her virginity to still burned fiercely. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Willow's expression; a part of her had expected the redhead to be slightly mocking or dismissive as per her usual behaviour. However there was a sympathetic look on her face, when she opened her mouth to say something she was interrupted by the arrival of their drinks, her grapefruit juice and a bowl latte for Willow.

"Coming out sucks," Willow announced after a deep gulp of her coffee. "I realised I was gay right from primary school when I used to pretend to have trouble with my homework so I could stay late with Miss Orange…damn, she was one hot primary school teacher. Coming out terrified me but, being Willow Rosenberg of course, I eventually decided to come out as loudly and proudly as possible. By then Xander and I were friends so we pretty much stuck together. The faggot and the dyke."

"Did people avoid you?" Tara asked tentatively.

Willow took another sip and shook her head. "On the contrary, we eventually became the novelties. Everyone wanted to be friends with us and when I got to 'that age,' girls wanted to know me a little more intimately. Although discreetly of course."

Tara again found herself laughing. "Oh my god."

Willow winked. "Who would've thought that high school could be so much fun. I didn't learn any of the traditional lessons of course. Not that I needed school for anything. I was politely 'asked' to leave at the end of Sixth Form for behavioural reasons, but the truth was I just didn't give a fuck."

"University was liberating for me," Tara continued. She was finding it easier by the minute to talk to Willow. "There were finally others like me, support groups and parties. At first I was a little hesitant to get involved with anyone else after Fi, but I soon learnt that I could trust again…" Tara paused, realising that once again she had chosen the wrong woman to trust in Audrey. She stared at Willow, knowing full well that she could have chosen wrong again.

The conversation trailed off slightly in the wake of Tara's silence but all too soon their food arrived. Buttermilk pancakes and fruit, smothered in maple syrup for Tara and a 'works' breakfast for Willow, bacon, sausage, hash browns and toast. Tara watched in surprise as Willow poured generous helpings of salt and tomato sauce on her food before digging in with great gusto. She glanced up a moment later with a full mouth and saw Tara looking.

Willow swallowed quickly with a slight shrug. "I'm not one of those girls who lives on salad and diet coke."

"Neither." Tara shovelled a forkful of pancakes into her mouth; they were exceptionally sweet and fluffy. Although knowing her own love of running, she couldn't help but wonder if Willow worked out. She distinctly remembered pressing up against a very firm set of abs during their night of passion.

"So, what about you?" Tara asked, pausing for a break between mouthfuls. She had to admit that her curiosity was burning exceptionally strongly when it came to the question of just what Willow did to keep herself living so comfortably.

"Me?" Willow replied between swallows. "Um…I keep myself busy with a demanding calendar of social engagements, especially at Imerst…and a little bit of working out to keep my arse looking so damn fine."

_And we have a winner,_ Tara thought, finding it difficult to imagine Willow sweating away on a stair master. Although the more she tried, the more appealing the image became. Although in her imaginings there was no stair master, just sweaty Willow. The image of sweaty Willow almost took her mind off the fact that Willow had completely avoided the real crux of her question.

"I probably wouldn't go all that often but Xander is a personal trainer at Body Works, he pretty much kicks my arse if I don't go," Willow continued quickly. It was as though she was anxious to steer the conversation away from the direction in which Tara was leading her.

"He seems like the only one that can keep you in line," Tara pointed out. Although she hardly knew Xander, she clearly remembered just how nice the young man had been following the drama at his party.

"Yeah, he's my family." Willow nodded before tearing the end off a sausage with one bite.

"Have you any other family?" Tara asked tentatively. She had not forgotten that Karl had started to say something about Willow's parents on Monday when she went to pick up her cell.

Willow stopped chewing for a moment. She swallowed quickly and shook her head. For once it seemed that she was lost for words.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Tara immediately regretted prying. She opened her mouth again to admit that she had recently lost someone but closed it when she found she didn't want to bring Audrey up at all.

Willow shrugged and swung the focus back to Tara. "What about you? Parents, siblings…children or dogs?"

Tara laughed lightly. "Yes to the parents, and the siblings. I have an older brother, Donnie. They're all up in Auckland. I don't have any children."

"Me neither," smirked Willow. "At least none that I know about."

Tara couldn't help but laugh again at the adorably naughty expression on Willow's face. "Nor do I have any pets. I would love to get a dog, but for that I need to buy a house in the suburbs and I'm not quite ready to let my apartment go. I still haven't recovered from my suburban childhood."

"Let me guess, your folks live in Remuera?" Willow asked, referring to a high-priced suburb in Auckland - full of large houses and well to do families with their perfect little children being sent to the best schools in the city.

"Guilty as charged," Tara admitted.

"Well…you turned out pretty well all the same," Willow commented with a grin.

Tara couldn't resist a slight dig in return. "I can't say the same for you!"

"Thank you, thank you very much," Willow laughed. "Although your barb is completely and thoroughly deserved as you experienced first hand after my disgraceful behaviour last weekend."

Tara was slightly taken aback by the sudden admittance, her lip and eye had almost completely healed and she'd done her best to put the awful experience behind her…despite being reminded of it every time she looked at Willow. "It's okay, really."

"It's not okay!" Willow blurted out. "My fucking ex-girlfriend decked you. I'll never forgive myself for my ineptitude in not leaping to your aide sooner."

"That would have been welcome." Tara mopped up a large pile of maple syrup with a piece of pancake and shovelled it into her mouth, mainly to keep from having to say anything further. She knew if she continued she would possibly absolve Willow of all wrongdoing. As it was, she quite liked the fact that the redhead felt guilty for what she had done.

Willow looked suitably chastened as she tucked into the remainder of her big breakfast and they sat in what soon developed into a companionable silence as they both finished their meals. Tara found herself sneaking brief glances up at Willow every now and then and realised that, for all her hugely inflated ego and arrogance, she was growing on her. She no longer seemed like the shallow young woman who had sauntered into the café complaining about how badly Gustav had cut her hair.

Full to the brim, Tara set down her knife and fork with a clatter and wiped her mouth with a serviette as she waited for Willow to finish. Although she still knew very little actual information about the redhead, she felt as though she had gained an insight into her life. There was still however the one question that Willow had neatly avoided.

"You didn't answer one of my questions earlier," Tara said quietly, trying to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible. "What do you do?"

Willow frowned. She was suddenly slightly uncomfortable. "I thought I told…"

"You told me what you like to do, but what do you do…you know, work wise? I write and you…?" Tara trailed her voice off, leaving Willow to fill in the gap.

"Oh." Willow paused and suddenly looked very interested in what remained of her breakfast. A few moments passed before she finally met Tara's gaze once more. "Well in actual fact I don't do anything. Technically however, I own a company."

"You own a company?" Tara asked dubiously.

"Don't look so surprised," Willow scolded her for displaying the expression so blatantly. She shrugged. "You'd be surprised at just how little you actually have to do to own a company. Turns out you can pay people to do everything for you."

"You own a company?" Tara repeated. "I mean, how, why and what?

The uncomfortable expression remained on Willow's face but she stubbornly held Tara's gaze. Tara saw something in her eyes that she had not seen before in the redhead. She was sad. The display of emotion startled Tara and subconsciously she lifted her hand to the table. With her hear hammering in her chest, she slowly moved her fingers towards Willow's hand which was resting near her empty coffee cup. Her fingers were scant inches from Willow's when she was startled by a loud, grating voice.

"Willow, what a delightful surprise!"

Tara snatched her hand back and glanced up to see a tall, somewhat thin woman with bottle blonde hair standing over their table. She placed one hand possessively on the back of Willow's chair and leaned in close. Tara immediately thought it was a little too close for someone who was just a good friend.

"Natalie," Willow greeted her in return, turning her face towards the other woman so she could lean in and kiss her cheek.

Natalie deposited a kiss on the proffered cheek and then moved away only slightly, the smile on her face indicating that it could have been much more than a simple kiss on the cheek if they had not been in the middle of a crowded café. It was at this point that Natalie cast a surreptitiously smug glance in Tara's direction.

Tara pointedly turned away as though she wasn't in the least bit interested in whatever Natalie was trying to prove. She suddenly found the remnants of her breakfast extremely interesting and proceeded to mop up the remaining syrup with her finger, not caring how childish she looked as she licked it off. She tried to block out the honey-like words flowing from Natalie's lips as she complimented Willow on how good she was looking. Although she did note that the compliment wasn't returned. She had to wonder just why that satisfied her immensely.

"Will I see you at Imerst tonight?" she asked hopefully.

Tara almost snickered; she couldn't see how anyone that sounded so desperate could possibly be smug about anything.

"Possibly," Willow shrugged. "Although I very may well have another engagement, you know what it's like for busy people."

After nearly a minute of sickening conversation, Natalie excused herself, saying she was late for an appointment and finally left their table.

Tara watched Willow and saw that she her gaze was following the other woman as she left the café. She felt her gut begin to ache until it reached the point where she thought it was tied in a hard knot. Just as the woman was about to walk out the door she turned and made a visible 'call me' signal in Willow's direction. Tara felt like throwing up at the responding smirk on Willow's face. It was only when her scantily clad body had finally disappeared from sight that Willow turned her attention back towards Tara, completely failing to notice the stormy expression on her face for what it was.

"So, when can I see you again?" Willow asked quietly, reaching across the table to lay her hand atop Tara's.

If Willow had been oblivious to Tara's emotions a moment earlier, she was brought up to speed when she snatched her hand away and folded her arms across her chest. Willow paused mid-movement before placing her hand back on her lap, looking slightly wounded as though she were the one that had just been ridiculed.

"Um, okay, so I missed something?" Willow asked with a slight frown of confusion.

"I don't think you missed anything at all," Tara replied tartly. "You sure got a good look at everything."

"What? Natalie?" Willow asked in a surprised voice. "C'mon, I was just talking to her. It was fun making her think she had a chance in hell with me!"

"Well, just because I jumped into bed with you practically the moment we met doesn't make me someone like her!" Tara growled angrily, unfolding her arms so she could point her finger in the direction that Willow's admirer had just disappeared.

"Tara…" for the first time that morning Willow appeared slightly taken aback and lost for words. "I didn't mean anything of the sort…"

"I know exactly what you meant," Tara growled angrily, reaching into her bag to withdraw a twenty-dollar note. As she stood she slapped the money down on the table. "Goodbye, Willow."

Willow stood also, her chair scraping back on the floor in her haste to stop Tara. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate anything of the sort, honestly."

"Well, going on your past record you'll forgive me if I don't believe you," she said quietly, refusing to be drawn in by the almost sincere expression on Willow's face. _I will not give into her dammit! She can't just pull that puppy dog expression at me and expect to have everything forgiven! _Tara thought, trying to keep her anger raging as she knew she stood more of a chance of resisting Willow's charms if she remained angry with her. _This whole date was a bad, bad idea!_

With some effort on her part, she turned her back on Willow Rosenberg. She walked out of the café, hoping to god that Willow didn't follow her. Once safely on the other side of the road she quickly stepped into a nearby gift shop and hid behind a display stand so she could watch the entrance. Sure enough, less than a minute later Willow appeared, obviously having paid her bill as quickly as possible. Tara watched as she glanced left and right before her shoulders slumped slightly and she walked off to the right, away from the store in which Tara was hiding. As Tara watched her walk down the road she couldn't help but wonder if she had been guilty of over-reacting to Willow's flirtatious nature. After all, it was what had won her over in the first place…that and a little too much alcohol.

"Can I help you?" a prim voice spoke from just behind her shoulder.

Tara spun around to find herself face to face with a snotty looking sales assistant. She glanced around for a moment; the gift shop was the type of store that sold extremely overpriced candles and linens to people with pretensions towards refinement. It was not the sort of store Tara visited unless she was looking for a present for her grandmother, and it was months until her birthday.

"Ah, no…thanks," Tara replied quickly, ducking back out of the shop.

Willow was still visible in the distance, continuing to walk down the street. Tara watched her for a moment, secretly willing her to turn around. However, instead she unlocked a small, black Audi and Tara realised with a fright that she would drive directly past her. Once again she ducked back inside the gift shop and hid until the sleek sports car drove past her and stopped at the traffic lights just up ahead.

"This isn't a bus stop, you know."

Tara turned and smiled as politely as possible at the sales assistant, "You know what it's like when you're hiding from a girl that you really want to see, and yet don't want to see at the same time?"

"No, I don't," she replied in a condescending voice.

Tara just shrugged and peered back out the window to see that the lights had changed and Willow's Audi was pulling into the turn, soon she would be gone altogether.

"Nice work," Tara added to the assistant as she indicated the display she had been hiding behind. With the woman still glaring at her, Tara left the store and began her walk home. She was already doubting her ability to do any writing that afternoon and suddenly thought that a DVD and a big bag of salt n' vinegar chips sounded like absolute heaven. She'd stuff her face with fatty, salty goodness and the subsequent stomachache would serve as a reminder that Willow Rosenberg was just as bad for her.


	10. We Look Before and After

**~Chapter Ten~ **

**We look before and after, And pine for what is not**

Tara might have felt ten times worse if she had somehow found out that while she was planning on reclining on her couch with a bag of potato chips propped up on her chest, Willow was out treading the pavement in her running shoes. Not usually one for such a public form of exertion, it had nevertheless seemed to be the only thing that the redhead could think of doing after pacing to and fro about her living room for almost half an hour, debating whether or not to call Tara and apologise. She'd stared at the blonde's number with her finger poised above the 'talk' button only to find herself incapable of actually going through with it.

Her first thought had been to pour herself a drink but one look at the vodka mixers in her fridge had reminded her of the incident the previous weekend and she'd slammed the door shut on the temptation. It was then on with the shorts, t-shirt and shoes and out the door. The first few minutes, running out around the bay where she lived, had been an exercise in self-humiliation. It was a popular running route for people of all abilities, mostly taking time out from their offices in the CBD. As such the tree lined route, right by the sea, was a little crowded. Willow felt as though each and every person who passed her was somehow laughing at her. Gradually, this irrational fear was replaced as she slipped into a comfortable running zone. She was even glad that she had forgotten her iPod. With no music to drown out her thoughts, she could dwell on what happened with Tara at Café l'Affare.

It had all started so pleasantly, aside of course from that fact that she had been over half an hour late. She made a mental note for her next cut - she would tell Gustav to get it right the first time or else she would take her considerable patronage elsewhere. Anyway, aside from her tardiness, everything had gone rather well. Not normally one for chit-chat, Willow had genuinely found herself enjoying Tara's company. Just watching the blonde as she spoke was enjoyable enough and for once, she didn't feel the need to be doing all the talking. So Tara was a writer. Willow thought she could see that. The blonde with her head down over her typewriter - Willow shook her head slightly at the silly thought. _People don't use typewriters anymore do they? _Tara probably had a laptop. So she could see her with her head down over her laptop. She was probably one of those people who constantly had the tip of their tongue protruding from their mouth while they were concentrating. Willow decided she liked that image immensely and held onto it for a few moments, immersing herself in it to the point that she almost ran straight into the side of a bus shelter. Willow swerved to avoid the nasty collision and moved over to the middle of the path, making another mental note to avoid getting into deep daydreams while she was running.

_Historical fiction…what were the titles she gave? Passion and fire or something like that? Mmmhhmm, she probably writes sex scenes. I was right, there is more to Tara Maclay!_ For the first time in her life (other than the times she had been forced to in high school), Willow was actually contemplating reading a novel.

_Then that super-bitch Natalie had showed up and ruined everything_. Willow could have hit herself. She had fallen right into Natalie's trap. A trap complete with stupid smouldering eyes and tits shoved right up into her face. The whole event had been a carefully acted play, right down to the swaying of her hips as she sauntered out of the café. By far the worst element of the whole disaster was the fact that it was Natalie who had dumped her to begin with. They were much too alike, both needing to be the centre of attention at all times and that had been a recipe for sparks flying. With an angry huff Willow knew that Natalie had planned everything to draw her attention away from the gorgeous girl she was with - in this case - Tara.

Willow was angry at herself for falling for such a cheap trick, and once again she'd managed to alienate Tara. Their conversation had been going so well that Willow had already been planning a proper date as she was polishing off the last of her bacon. She had been thinking of dinner at Niccolini's - Italian food in a dark corner by candlelight. However such pleasant thoughts had been brought to an abrupt halt by the skank with double Ds.

Fuelled by anger, Willow pumped her legs faster until she was almost sprinting. She kept running until her heart was beating at what felt like a million times a minute, threatening to explode out of her chest. By the time she had ran a complete circuit and she was almost back at her apartment she was on the verge of collapsing but her mind was clear.

She contemplated finishing off her stellar running effort by zipping up the stairs to her apartment, however the three stairs just to get into her building proved difficult enough and she wisely opted to take the lift. She weakly stabbed the button and sagged against the wall behind her, not caring if she left a sweat patch. At the ding and swish of the doors as they opened, it was all Willow could do to drag herself out of the lift and down the hall to her door. Once inside she made straight for a handy glass and the water tap to quench her parched innards.

At the sound of her door opening behind her Willow received one hell of a surprise and almost dropped the glass she was holding. However, she relaxed almost instantly when she saw Xander walk in and close the door behind him.

"I didn't buzz you up," she observed after draining the glass dry and dumping it in the sink.

Xander helpfully reminded her that he had his own swipe card by waving it in her face. He then crossed to the sink and deposited her empty glass in the dishwasher, "If you leave it in the sink then it won't get washed, but there's this super invention sitting under your bench that only requires you to push a couple of buttons and it washes stuff for you. Genius really."

Willow sagged against the bench, unimpressed by his advice. "I would've drank straight from the tap but I couldn't bend over that far. "

Xander tucked the card back in his wallet, all the while glancing at her sweaty, dishevelled appearance, "I was going to ask why you missed our session again, and give you an earful about sitting around on your far arse, but I see you haven't been."

"Nope," Willow replied proudly, standing without aid of the bench she made a half-hearted effort to stretch out her tired muscles. "Went for a jog."

Xander bit his lip and frowned as though trying to get his thoughts around this revelation. "Okay, I was kind of pissed at you for standing me up and all, but you running of your own accord has me too shocked to say anything else. Did you run in public where people could see you?"

Willow ignored the taunt in his words. "Around Oriental Bay."

"I don't think the common people would have quite realised what they were witnessing," Xander said with a smirk. "The great Willow Rosenberg, huffing, puffing and sweating in public. Now get your arse down on your mat and let me stretch you out."

Willow complied, walking obediently across her barely used yoga mat which was laid out to one side of the large room. With a groan she flopped to the floor and rolled over onto her back. As Xander stretched out her quad, she felt her racing heart calm until it was almost normal. She definitely did not like the clammy feeling of sweat drying on her skin however.

"Soooo?" Xander began expectantly.

"So what?" Willow replied back in a tart voice as she switched legs. She knew she didn't have to be quite so rude in reply but she was tired and her stomach was rumbling in a demanding fashion.

Well used to Willow's snappish moods, Xander brushed it off and continued, "So how did brunch with Tara go? Judging by the sudden urge to run a marathon, I'd say it didn't go well, but that's my humble observation."

"It started out well. I followed all of your advice. I asked about what she did, I kept my ramblings about myself to an absolute minimum-"

"What does she do by the way?" Xander interrupted quickly, he was clearly keen to find out more about Tara Maclay as well.

"She's a writer," Willow replied. "And not just any writer, she writes romantic, historical stuff. You know, the kind with lots of sex."

Xander's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "She really doesn't strike me as that sort of person."

Willow smirked. "Okay, I made up the part about lots of sex, but one of her books is called 'Land of Burning Passion,' or something like that. So it was sort of an educated guess."

"So it was going well and…?" Xander waited expectantly.

"Natalie showed up," Willow continued in a dry voice, all her sparkle suddenly gone.

"Oh," Xander added simply. It was all Willow needed to say. He had already listened to many rants from Willow about the woman who had flicked her away for hogging too much of her spotlight. "You're done and dusted with her, how the hell could she have ruined anything?"

Xander let her leg go and Willow rolled away from him to bury her face in the floor. "I was a moron!" she groaned, knowing full well that she had let Natalie get to her. "She flirted, and I flirted back. C'mon, you've seen the rack on that woman! It was like I couldn't help myself!"

Xander sat back on his haunches and glared at Willow. "Will! What did I tell you about keeping your eyes on Tara throughout the whole meal! I distinctly remember saying no roaming!"

Willow rolled over to meet Xander's accusing glare and she nodded in admission of defeat. He had provided her with a careful set of instructions for her brunch with Tara. Firstly, he'd told her to listen as much as she possibly could. He was all too aware of her penchant for talking about herself because as far as she was concerned, she was always more exciting than the other person. Willow had admitted that such an approach would not work with Tara and indeed, the whole listening routine had served her well. Then Natalie had shown up, and she'd broken Xander's second rule, no ogling other girls. It was all too obvious to both of them that Tara was a one woman kind of girl and whether Willow was interested in her for the long term or merely getting into her pants again, she couldn't stray. Staring at Natalie's tits and arse right in front of Tara definitely counted as straying.

"God, I'm such an idiot!" Willow groaned. "I had a beautiful girl sitting in front of me; staring at only me, and I go and do something like that to her. Why do I always do that?"

Xander shrugged as he stood up and then reached back down to help Willow to her feet. "Because that's what you do."

"That is what I do," Willow agreed as she took his hand.

"Well, if I know you, and I do, you're not going to let this go. What's your next move?" was Xander's simple question as he helped her back to her feet.

Willow stood and let go of Xander's hands once upright and declared with a small smile on her face. "I think I'm going to buy a book."

* * *

After returning to her apartment, Tara had been forced to turn around and go back out when she discovered she had no potato chips, or chocolate, or ice-cram, or anything remotely resembling pity-food. Once she had the potato chips, and a couple of chocolate bars for good measure, she prepared a pillow and a blanket on the couch. There was just the question of what to watch. She perused her extensive DVD collection but despite the variety, nothing jumped out at her. She was about to give up and choose her perennial favourite Tomb Raider, for a bit of eye candy, when the phone rang.

Predictably, it was Faith. "Hey T, I've been waiting for you to call and let me know how brunch with the club princess went?"

Tara's response was also predictable. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okaaaay," Faith said slowly, "You do remember that I'm your best friend right? You're not going to get away with an answer like that with me. Spill!"

Letting out a slight groan, Tara flopped down on the couch, and propped her hand beneath her chin. "Can I just say it went badly and leave it at that?"

"No you can't!"

"She was perving at another chick while having brunch with me!" Tara finally snapped. In irritation she reached out for the bag of potato chips lying next to her and tried to prise them open with one hand. "Some skank she'd obviously had something with in the past - nice boobies though. Anyway, is it just me or is that really wrong?"

Faith paused for a moment before replying, "Well, what was the extent of their interaction? Did they go to the bathroom together for half an hour or was it just talking?"

"Talking…and flirting!" Tara answered, scowling as the chip bag proved resistant to her efforts to open it.

"T, did you over-react?" Faith asked in a low, knowing voice.

"I most certainly did not!" Tara replied indignantly, she then paused and thought about it for a moment, remembering her own second thoughts on her outburst as she watched Willow through the gift shop window. "Well…maybe a little…"

"Are you going to call her again?" was Faith's immediate response, she obviously felt that Willow's flirting was not so terrible that it should end whatever was going on between her friend and the redhead.

"Oh my god Faith, I have got to stay away from that woman! She's like a huge pimple, you can't help but look at it and play with it, but in the end you just want the fucking thing to go away!" Tara snapped, she finally gave up trying to prise the bag open with one hand and ripped it open with her teeth. It was a far more successful manoeuvre, albeit a little too successful. The bag tore open and a handful of chips flew out to land on her lap. Instead of getting annoyed at the mess, Tara regarded this as quite satisfactory and shovelled a couple of them into her mouth.

Faith chuckled at Tara's analogy. "Do you really want Willow to go away?"

Tara swallowed her mouthful. "Honestly, no. I've never felt like I do when I'm with her. Audrey always kept me right in my place. I had my work and I had her and that was enough for me but then Willow Rosenberg comes charging into my life and I feel alive again, and not just alive but really, really living! When I'm with her I feel like a much cooler version of Tara Maclay."

"How do you figure that?" Faith asked with confusion clearly registering in her voice. Obviously she thought Tara was going slightly nuts.

Tara replied with a mouthful of chips, "You don't get it Faith, whoever is with her, with Willow Rosenberg, they have to be someone so gorgeous, so awesome that she would choose them over anyone else. Whenever I'm with her, I feel like that girl."

Faith sighed, Tara was indeed nuts. "Tara, you are gorgeous and awesome all by yourself, you don't need Willow to make you become those things."

"Then why did Audrey cheat on me?" Tara demanded in a plaintive voice. "And not just once, but twice!"

"Because she was a bitch," was Faith's rather blunt reply, she paused for a moment before continuing, "And Willow's nothing more than spoilt rich kid with too much money and zero good sense! I will take some of the blame though, I thought in some way she'd be good for you but I honestly think she's making you a little crazy. Example one – sorry to go slightly off topic - but you scoring a guy's phone number for me? T, when have I ever needed you to pick up guys for me?"

"He seemed so nice," Tara replied quietly, fishing more chips from her lap.

"He is nice!" Faith said quickly.

"You went out with Karl without telling me?" Tara spluttered, several gobs of chip went flying out of her mouth.

"Well, you have to admit, I thought you'd gone off your rocker and that he'd be a dud for sure, and I didn't want to make you feel bad," Faith began. "So I thought I'd keep it simple and quiet in case it was a disaster. We went for coffee and it was great, he's such a sweetie! We're going out again tomorrow night."

"Great," Tara replied, trying to keep her voice enthusiastic. _At least one of us is having some luck when it comes to coffee dates!_

"Hey, do you wanna come over?" Faith asked, sensing that Tara needed a little one on one time with her best friend. "I can tell that you're going to plonk your sorry arse down on your couch all afternoon. I've got chips and Tim-tams and there's a Buffy marathon on Channel 5."

Tara found herself with a genuine smile crossing her lips - a best friend, Tim-tams and Buffy. What more did she possibly need? However, there was one thing that she told herself she had to do that afternoon, and no matter what had happened, she had to go through with it.

"Sounds good Faith. Although can you hold off eating the biscuits until this evening? I have to drive out to Makara first."

"Okay," Faith replied, knowing exactly where Tara was going. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Tara hesitated, for a moment she thought that it would be easier if Faith were at her side. Then she thought better of it, she had to go alone. "Thanks but I'll be fine by myself. I'll see you later on okay?"

After eliciting a promise from Faith that she would not open the packet of Tim-tams until she was there, Tara hung up and sighed. She wasn't at all looking forward to what was to come, but she felt it was long overdue.

* * *

It was a reasonably long drive out to Makara, made slightly worse by Friday afternoon traffic – people often left work early. However it was time enough anyway for Tara to think, especially about her brunch with Willow. She had pretty much summed it all up on the phone to Faith earlier, Willow did make her feel like more than herself, a different kind of Tara, one that was cool and hung out with the 'in-crowd' as she had done at Xander's party.

As intriguing and inviting as the 'in crowd' was, Tara knew she wasn't that girl. She was the kind of girl who stayed at home on Saturday nights and watched Buffy - definitely not the activities of a social butterfly. She preferred small screen action to a room full of drunken partygoers, especially the kind that gave her a black eye and a split lip.

Finally approaching her destination, Tara slowed, she then pulled the Suzuki Swift off the road and down the road she was looking for. The car park was hardly full, but then again Friday afternoons weren't really peak hour for such visits. She retrieved the flowers from the passenger seat and left her car to walk up the hill along the carefully manicured pathways. The wind had picked up a little and it whipped her hair against her face.

She finally found the row she was looking for and slowed a little. She hadn't been out here since that day, four months ago. This visit was already dredging up memories of just how awful it had been with Audrey's family and David all staring at her as though she were the one that didn't belong. All too soon she came across the simple headstone inscribed with the name 'Audrey Kent' and she stopped. Several gorgeous bunches of flowers were piled high around the stone, no doubt one was from David. Tara stooped to place her own rather insignificant offering next to the others and stepped back a few paces. As she stared down at the black marble she didn't really know what to say. She hadn't come with the intention of saying anything. She just felt it was her obligation to visit her girlfriend's grave.

After a few minutes of reading the words over and over, Tara looked up and out to the bright blue sea in the distance. The wind seemed a little colder and she could feel her nose start to run slightly. Tara sniffed, unsure if she was crying or just merely cold.

When she finally glanced back at Audrey's headstone, she had found some words. "I'm sorry, Auds. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance to really be with him. To know if he could have made you happy in ways I couldn't. I'm sorry you couldn't bring yourself to tell me earlier…"

It sounded pathetic to her own ears, a part of her felt like venting her anger, demanding to know why Audrey didn't have the guts to tell her that she wanted to break things off as soon as she realised she wanted to be with David. However Tara couldn't summon the will to be angry, she just felt sad that she had wasted so many years of her life with someone who didn't really care about her. It saddened her even further to think that she might never find the one person that she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. Instead she would be forced to spend fleeting moments with people like Willow Rosenberg, until the point where she was just an empty husk of a person with nothing left to give.

Tara pressed her fingers to her lips and stooped slightly to press those fingers to the top of the headstone. She then turned and trudged back down the hill to her car, stuffing her hands in her pockets to ward off the cold. When she sniffed again, she realised that she was actually crying.


	11. Fear not for the Future

**~Chapter Eleven~ **

**Fear not for the future, weep not for the past**

Tara spent much of the next month trying to forget about Willow Rosenberg. At first, she devoted her attention to completing her book. However, when it was done and delivered to the printers she suddenly found herself at a loss as to what to do. Tara knew she ought to turn her attention to writing her next 'masterpiece.' There were dozens of ideas scribbled in the tattered old exercise book she used for jotting down sudden flashes of inspiration - any one of which she could have expanded into the bare bones of a decent story. She found herself reluctant to summon the necessary enthusiasm to turn on her laptop and commence writing. For the first time in her life, writer's block was a decidedly unnerving experience. Writing was her livelihood and she couldn't help but feel an awful fear settling into mind. What if she could never write another story again? Not only would she be broke, she'd be completely miserable.

Such thoughts were enough to force Tara to bring her laptop to life and at least make a few attempts at writing something. However each time she managed only a few paragraphs - none of it was even worth saving. Most of her time was spent staring at the screen, willing herself to write something.

Her time was spent pacing the length of her small apartment, often pausing to stare at her computer as it sat on her desk. It remained there squat and lifeless, a constant reminder of her inability to string together coherent thoughts. Eventually it became too much for her to bear and she packed the damn thing away, tucking it beneath her desk where she would not have to look at it and be reminded of her writer's block.

With writing removed from her life, Tara found herself with too much time on her hands and absolutely nothing to do. The thought of calling Willow crossed her mind more than once but she stubbornly refused to give in to such impulses. As far as she was concerned whatever it was that she had shared with the redhead, was over. Although she was almost grateful that Willow was obviously thinking the same thing and did not call, she couldn't help but feel disappointed every time she picked up her ringing cell only to find that it was not the wayward redhead.

Tara's existence therefore consisted of lengthy walks to nowhere in particular and, once again, watching entirely too much Oprah. This time around she did throw in a little Ellen as well but found the blonde comedienne's demeanour far too chirpy for her own sour moods. Tara didn't quite realise it, but she had slipped right back into the despair that had followed Audrey's death. It was lightened only by the times in which she fell asleep and dreamed of being with Willow.

* * *

At the same time, Willow had spent the month in a manner that would have surprised herself had she stopped to really think about what she was doing. Instead of spending it alternating between being drunk, being stoned, being drunk and stoned or being hung-over, she became someone she didn't entirely recognise. The drastic changes in her life had commenced a few days after her honest and revealing conversation with Xander. It had been a revelation for her to finally acknowledge the fact that there was no way in hell anything was ever going to happen with Tara if she continued to be her same old, hopeless, arrogant and self-absorbed self. In fact, the Willow of old would have laughed to see herself running almost every day, staying clear of Imerst and buying magazines with articles on detoxing your body.

The one thing that was missing from the new Willow was the very reason for her sudden madness, Tara. She had not called the blonde and it took her a good three weeks after their disastrous brunch date before she gathered up the nerve to walk into a book store and look for one of her books.

It was a particularly nasty Saturday morning, with the wind already whipping up towards gale force, when Willow was blown into Whitcoulls bookstore. She must have looked out of place because a sales assistant immediately asked if she needed any help. Willow scanned the store to find books spread out in every direction, she hadn't imagined that it would be possible for there to be so many books in one place. She turned to the assistant gratefully.

"Ummm…yeah…do you have any books by Tara Maclay?" Willow asked tentatively.

"We certainly do!" the assistant replied in an overly chirpy tone.

Willow followed obediently in her wake as she led her further into the store. She didn't have far to go at all before the assistant came to a stop in front of a display stand with a pleased smile on her face. It was then that Willow glanced at the cover of each book to see 'Tara Maclay' embossed on them in bold lettering. Her eyes widened in shock as she counted four different titles, _Land of Fire, Upon a Strange Shore, Passion in a Distant Land _and _Loss of Innocence_. Each cover was adorned with a suitably solemn and expectant looking young woman – the type who was bound to find herself in peril in the opening pages and require the assistance of a swarthy, resourceful young man. Willow reached out and picked up the nearest book, it was certainly thick and heavy.

"Have you read any of her work?" The sales assistant interrupted Willow's silent staring as she also picked up one of the books.

"Ah, no," Willow replied. She flicked to the back page and saw that the book ran to an alarming 512 pages. She wondered just how many years it would take her to read and, just for a moment, if Tara was worth it. "I'm not really much of a reader."

"Well, don't let the covers fool you. They're not trashy by any stretch of the imagination. I've read them all and she's a fantastic writer. I would recommend you start with this one."

Willow found a copy of _Passion in a Distant Land _pressed into her hands and she glanced down at it. For some reason the heroine on the cover reminded her of Tara even though she had raven black hair. She wore a poignant expression that was reminiscent of one she had caught Tara wearing during their brunch. It had been wiped quickly of course, replaced by her refreshing smile…but there was something there that Willow was sure held a secret. The memory of the smile was enough to remind Willow that her efforts might be worth something.

"I might just take a copy of each," Willow announced emphatically. The surprised assistant handed her the other three books. Together they made up a rather weighty armload. "If they stink, at least they'll make great door stops."

A rather triumphant Willow took her purchases to the counter. The young woman at the desk greeted the books with a similar enthusiasm to the first. "Oh I just love Tara Maclay's books. Are you a fan? You must be if you're buying all four! "

Willow smiled and replied cryptically, "Not yet, but I'm sure I will be."

_Oh my god, I seriously cannot believe I am doing this!_ Willow thought to herself just an hour and a half later as she folded herself onto her leather couch with a blanket and a cup of tea. Half an hour's worth of reading time had already been lost to trying to find her reading glasses, an item she always denied needing. Now with her glass perched on her nose, she half-heartedly wondered if she ought to don a cardigan and a pair of slippers to complete her grand-motherly appearance.

An indeterminate amount of time passed during which Willow managed to completely lose herself in Tara's writing. Although it was the type of story that she would have previously professed to hate, and probably still hated, the way it was told had her completely captivated. So much so that she lost herself in the flow of words on the page. It was only the harsh sound of her cell phone ringing that drew her out of that world and back to her own. She glanced at the screen to see it was Xander. Had it been anyone else she would have promptly switched the phone off.

"Will, what the fuck are you doing?" Xander did not even bother with a hello.

"Reading," Willow replied succinctly. She folded the corner of the page over to mark her place and set the book down reluctantly.

"No, seriously, what are you doing?" Xander repeated.

"I'm reading." This time Willow placed a little more emphasis on the word 'reading'. "Seriously."

"One of Tara's books?" Xander suddenly remembered. "Damn, I thought you were joking, but then again, you've been pretty weird lately. I feel like I'm just your personal trainer, I only get to spend time with you when we're in the gym. I get at least half a dozen people a night asking where the hell you are whenever I go to Imerst."

Willow shrugged. "Imerst just doesn't seem like a place I wanna be at the moment. It's always the same poseurs drinking the same old shit and doing the same drugs."

"Okay, who are you and what the fuck have you done with Willow Rosenberg?" Xander demanded in a thoroughly unimpressed voice. "Just last month, you were one of those poseurs, and you were fun, not like the boring old loser you are now."

"Hey, you've been on at me for ages to clean up my act!" Willow protested.

"Will, I'm joking!" Xander said emphatically.

Willow sighed; she knew he missed his best friend. However their separation was for a good cause. Despite Xander's best intentions, the world of dance parties and clubs was his world too. Willow did not want to ask him to give it all up because she knew full well he would do it just for her. A part of her hoped that she could one day achieve her best friend's maturity and restraint when it came to alcohol and drugs. However, she knew that it was far better to avoid the temptation altogether.

_Just one night out?_ Willow could feel it already. The incessant beat of the bass, the bodies pressed up against her own and the buzz of intoxication flowing throughout her body. She could picture it in her mind too. Imerst, packed to the walls with women wearing variations of the same skimpy dress, her hands exploring the soft flesh of a thigh and her lips leaving a trail of moisture on a long neck.

"Will?" Xander interrupted her thoughts. "Are you still there?"

Willow shook her head to clear her mind but she could not ignore the taunt feeling in her gut. A feeling made all the worse when she realised she hadn't had sex since her one night stand with Tara five weeks earlier. _Holy fuck, I need to get laid. I'm going insane._ Willow sighed again. She wasn't about to let herself be ruled by her raging libido.

"I'm sorry, Xander," Willow tried to think of other ways she could make it up to him. The only option she could think of was decidedly unpalatable in her thinking, but if it would mean getting back on his good side she was prepared to do it. "Okay, you know how you've been on at me for ages to go to a rugby game…"

"Oh Will!" Xander interrupted, his voice as giddy as a ten year old child's. "You'd do that, just for me?"

Willow hated rugby with a passion. She viewed it as hordes of barbarians throwing themselves at one another for an ultimately futile outcome. There were few things in life more tedious than watching an entire rugby game. She therefore had to suppress a grimace as she replied, "Yes."

"Great! The All Blacks are playing the Aussies at the end of the month. I'll get us tickets!" Xander continued.

"Oh no you won't," Willow was quick to say. There was no way in hell she would risk being buffeted by rain and wind should the weather turn out to be awful on the night. "I'll make a few calls and see if I can get a corporate box. That way you can invite a few friends that actually like rugby." _And if I have to suffer, at least I'll be warm!_

"Well, it would have been just as good with the two of us but hey, if you're paying then I'm in!"

Willow sighed. It would be worth a small amount of discomfort to see her friend happy. She also had to admit that being a reclusive hermit didn't really agree with her. "Okay…are we good?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure, as if we weren't! What are you doing with yourself anyway?" he asked, his tone slightly suspicious. "Why the hell are you reading Tara's books when you should just be calling her?"

"I just figured a little time to sort myself out was needed before I talk to her again," Willow replied. "Admit it, I'm not exactly the most well-balanced person."

"I don't wanna say anything I might regret!" Xander laughed lightly. "Just make sure you don't wait too long before calling her. She might forget who you are."

"After all I've done to her, I don't think there's a chance in hell of that happening," Willow replied honestly.

* * *

With Tara having well and truly slipped into another depressed funk, Faith realised that it was again up to her to do something about it. First and foremost, she was concerned about Tara but she was also rather annoyed at the fact that she had become exceptionally boring as well as depressing. Faith also knew exactly who was to blame for Tara's relapse - that walking disaster area that went by the name of Willow Rosenberg.

She conveniently forgot that she was partially responsible for Tara's continued association with Willow and devised an entirely new approach. Her initial plan was rather simple, she asked Tara to meet her at work one Friday evening under the pretext that they would then go out for a quiet coffee and a movie. However she deliberately omitted the part where it was the sixtieth birthday celebration for one of the partners at her law firm. The trap was set.

When Tara stepped out of the elevator and into the spacious foyer of the offices of Buddle Findlay and Partners, casually dressed in jeans, a plain top and her favourite pair of leather boots, she found a rather raucous party in full swing. Faith's firm was ordinarily made up of a bunch of rather serious, industrious, sober hard workers but when the occasion called for it they could loosen their ties and sing bad karaoke like the most seasoned socialites.

"Faith!" Tara snapped with alarm when she spied her friend walking towards her with a broad smile on her face. Karl was at her side. Over the past few weeks, they were seldom apart. Tara was so caught up in her own world that she didn't even think to congratulate herself on her match-making skills.

"Hey Tara," Karl smiled warmly.

"Hey," Tara flashed him a quick smile in return, she didn't intend to be rude but she was more interested in escaping from the scene into which she had inadvertently walked. She seized Faith by the elbow and steered her back towards the elevator. The doors had just closed, making a quick getaway impossible. "What the hell is this? You said coffee and a movie! This is not coffee and a movie!"

"I'd be lying if I said I forgot it was my boss's birthday tonight," Faith admitted, hardly ashamed of herself. "But I'd also be lying if I said you haven't been the most depressing, sad sack on the face of the planet lately!"

Tara responded by immediately turning to jab the 'down' button repeatedly.

It was then Faith's turn to seize Tara's elbow and steer her back towards the throng of people. "Oh no you don't, there's someone I want you to meet."

Ignoring Tara's feeble protests, Faith refused to let go of her elbow and dragged her through the crowd of half-drunk lawyers. Several of them knew Tara already and she had to respond with a forced smile as they called out greetings and tried to elicit promises of a karaoke duet later in the night. Despite the fact that she could carry a tune rather nicely, Tara couldn't think of anything worse.

Finally Faith spied her intended target, a young, dark-haired woman who was seated on a couch, away from the most raucous revellers. She was talking in an animated manner until she saw Faith approach with Tara in tow. Her conversation faded as she stopped talking altogether and was left with a slightly gaping mouth. Tara being her usual self, completely failed to realise that the woman had been struck speechless at the sight of her.

"Tara, this is Grace Palmer. She's recently joined us from our Auckland office." Faith continued with the introductions. "Grace, I'd like you to meet my very best friend, Tara Maclay."

Grace obviously suddenly realised that she was sitting, staring at Tara with her mouth open. She then stood up a little too hastily, extending her hand out towards Tara.

"Nice to meet you." Tara accepted her hand and immediately found her hand seized in a firm grip and pumped a little too enthusiastically. "Um…so, you're from Auckland?"

"Guilty as charged!" Grace chirped in reply. "I'm sure you guys don't welcome the appearance of another JAFA* in Wellington but I hope you don't hold that against me?"

"I'm sure I won't," Tara replied politely.

"Great!" Faith clapped her hands together. "I knew you guys would hit it off straight away. Why don't you both stay right here…and I'll see about getting some more drinks?"

Before Tara could protest, Faith whisked herself away and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Tara standing alone in the corner of the room with Grace. The others she had been talking to had since moved away too and they were quite by themselves. Tara turned to Grace to find her with an apologetic smile on her face.

"I'm sorry, Tara. I think she's trying…" Grace paused as though she was too polite to continue.

"To set us up?" Tara finished. When Grace laughed lightly she did too and the awkwardness between the two of them dissipated somewhat. "Yeah, she's annoying like that."

"Tell me about it!" Grace agreed. "I think I mentioned in passing a week or so ago something about my ex-girlfriend and she was all of a sudden mentioning the name 'Tara' whenever we had a conversation. Tara this and Tara that, and 'oh, you have to meet my friend Tara' and eventually I did have to agree to meet you just to get her to shut up. I wasn't going to be here tonight…not really a party person and all but she can be awfully persuasive."

"Yes," Tara caught sight of Faith across the room, obviously making no attempt to return with drinks, and narrowed her eyes theatrically. "She can be."

Grace laughed and continued, "I just didn't realise that 'Tara' would turn out to be the gorgeous blonde standing in front of me now."

Still looking across at Faith, Tara caught the words 'gorgeous blonde' and turned back to face Grace. There was a slight reddish tint to her cheeks as though it had taken some courage on her part to actually say those words. Tara quickly felt a matching heat rise in her own cheeks and she ducked her head slightly. However when she brought her gaze back up she had to admit that she didn't notice just how stunning Grace was, especially in the smartly tailored suit that flattered her rather thin, angular body. Her hair was so dark it verged on being black but her blue eyes were light enough to be called grey. The combination gave her appearance a slightly unnerving quality and yet when she smiled, that feeling disappeared altogether. Tara's interest was piqued. Enough at least for her to forget about being angry at Faith for the whole set up and listen intently to every word that came out of Grace's mouth. While the dark-haired woman had professed to disliking parties, she had no difficulty holding a conversation.

Tara was soon laughing and talking in reply, for the first time since her ill-fated brunch with Willow, she found herself thoroughly enjoying the company of another woman. It took her a while, but she soon realised that Grace was flirting with her. Tara had almost forgotten what it felt like. It had been years since her first meeting with Audrey, and Willow didn't have to flirt. The redhead simply and boldly made her intentions clear. Real, honest flirting was the simple little hints dropped into conversation, and the unnecessary physical contact – just small touches to the back of her hand or on her elbow – that made Tara realise what was happening. The realisation caused her to shut down a little, she was unsure if this was the direction she wanted to take so soon after Willow.

_Stop it you idiot, there was never anything between you and Willow! It was a one night stand that led to several successive disasters and nothing more!_ Tara thought with a slight ache to her gut. _There is no way in hell that I still want something to happen with her!_ It took her a moment to realise that Grace's laughter had faded out and she was looking on with a concerned expression.

"Hey, you're looking a little pale," Grace commented in a gentle voice. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Um, yeah." Tara pressed a hand to her forehead as though she was developing a headache. "I might just get a taxi home-"

"I'll drive you!" Grace interrupted, a little too quickly. She paused and smiled apologetically as if she realised how her enthusiasm would seem to Tara. "Sorry…it's just that it's a Friday night and I know everyone is trying to catch a taxi at this time, you might have a long wait. Um, I've been on nothing but diet coke all night so you'll be safe with me."

Tara managed a smile, _Am I really safe with you?_ Throughout the evening, Grace had made her interest clear, so clear that even a social introvert like Tara had picked up on it straight away. She knew she ought to be flattered. Grace was a stunning, intelligent woman with no obvious flaws other than the fact she wasn't Willow Rosenberg. "Um…that would be really nice of you."

From across the room, she motioned to Faith that she was leaving. Her friend glanced at her and then to Grace and nodded enthusiastically. Tara glanced back towards Faith and Karl while she was waiting at the elevator and saw them talking animatedly. No doubt they were congratulating themselves on a successfully orchestrated hook up.

Tara said little throughout the drive to her apartment; she listened to Grace talk and injected the appropriate noises of interest or agreement at all the right moments. It was only when they neared their destination that she realised just how rude and aloof she must have sounded. Although Grace seemed either not to notice, or was too polite to comment on her silence, Tara felt awful. For the last few minutes of their drive she made an effort to smile warmly and respond with more than just a simple 'yes' or 'no.'

"This is me here," Tara indicated her building and Grace drew the car to the side of the road. She kept her eyes out the window as they slowed to a halt, not daring to look across at the other woman for fear of the connotations evident in such a glance. "Well, thanks for the ride."

The situation in the car suddenly became awkward, Tara wanted to open the door and simply get out. However she felt Grace's gaze on her and knew full well that she was sitting there with some sort of expectation despite her strange behaviour. She turned her head slightly, at first just far enough to look down at her hands on her lap. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a slight movement as Grace leaned in towards her. She felt a pair of soft lips graze her cheek before pulling away. At that point Tara turned, surprised by such fleeting, and yet tender contact. There was a moment's hesitation on her part before she leaned in, this time initiating a soft kiss. Grace's lips parted with a sigh and her hand lightly cupped the back of Tara's neck.

Grace was grinning when they drew apart a few seconds later. She spoke softly, "Had I know how this would turn out I would have asked Faith to introduce us sooner."

Tara couldn't think of anything to say in response, she simply smiled as she opened her door and slid out of the car, she leaned back down to see Grace's grin still firmly in place and said the only thing she could think of saying in the situation, "So…I guess I'll see you again?"

"You can count on it," Grace replied.

Tara closed the door and gave a little wave as Grace's car pulled back out onto the road and off down the street. She remained standing on the footpath even after its taillights had disappeared over the hill. She pressed her fingers to her cheek where Grace had kissed her. Her heart continued to beat at a slowly and steady pace. It didn't hammer excitedly in her chest as it did whenever she laid eyes on Willow Rosenberg. Tara dismissed this thought as she finally turned to go inside, her reaction to Willow was simply a result of her being terrified of the redhead. That was all there was to it.

Grace was nice, and this was exactly what she told Faith when her friend called to check up on her an hour later. Grace was nice…

A/N *JAFA = "Just Another Fucking Aucklander" – the rest of New Zealand's polite way of acknowledging that there are too many people from Auckland, and that they are collectively disliked (although individually they're just fine!)


	12. Hope may Vanish

**~ Chapter 12~**

**Hope may vanish, but can die not**

Wellington's premier sporting venue, Westpac Stadium, was better known as 'the cake tin' for one very simple reason - it looked like a giant cake tin. For any given event, the stadium was usually teeming with people. With the national rugby team, the All Blacks, playing their arch-rivals Australia, it was a sell-out. The stadium wasn't just teeming, it was packed to the gunnels with rabid rugby supporters as well as those who weren't quite so rabid.

For about the tenth time, Tara winced as someone elbowed her in the arm. With less than fifteen minutes to go until kick-off, it seemed as though everyone was trying to visit the loo, buy their beer and chips and find their way to their seats. She had no idea where they were sitting. Her sole task was to maintain her grip on the two pottles of chips in her hands. If not for the firm arm linked through her own, she would have been wandering aimlessly. She glanced sideways briefly and saw the determined expression on Grace's face. The dark-haired girl steered her through the crowd, following close behind Faith and Karl who were leading the way just in front of them.

After what seemed like an eternity of being jostled and inadvertently elbowed, they finally reached their designated gate. Almost immediately, they went from the relatively enclosed space beneath the stands out into the open. The bright green playing field was spread out beneath them with the teams going through their warm-ups.

"Great, we haven't missed the haka!" Faith called over her shoulder. She was referring of course to the traditional Māori war dance performed by the All Blacks prior to the start of each game.

Karl pointed out their row. After stepping on several toes and asking a group of teenagers to move out of their seats, the four were finally able to sit down. Tara slumped into her hard plastic seat and was relieved to find that she had managed not to smear tomato sauce on the front of her jacket. She handed one pottle of chips to Grace who in turn handed her a plastic bottle of beer. Tucking the bottle between her knees, Tara turned her attention to the chips. She was surprised to find that, even after her torturous walk to her seat, they were still crisp and piping hot. They were unfortunately smothered with salt but she didn't care about clogging her arteries. She glanced skyward. Above the bright gleam of the lights, she could see that the hills surrounding the city were shrouded in low cloud. The air felt damp, as though it could rain at any moment. Faith had unfortunately skimped on their tickets and they were in uncovered seats. If it did rain, they would be completely exposed. Tara was exceptionally glad for her thick Gortex jacket and woolly hat pulled down over her ears.

By the time she had reached the last of her chips, with a brief interlude to stand for the national anthems, the haka was over and the whistle sounded for kick off. Tara fished out the last pathetic nubbin of a chip and popped it in her mouth. It was only as she sat crunching on it that she realised she had been a bit of a glutton.

"Gosh, you were hungry," Grace pointed out upon seeing the empty pottle crumpled in Tara's fist. She extended her own. "Want some of mine?"

The thought of eating even more chips made Tara feel worse. She looked to Grace and shook her head softly. "I think I've well and truly exceeded my chip quota for the whole month."

A grin suddenly spread across Grace's face. Tara was beginning to frown when Grace lifted her hand towards her face.

"Um, you have a bit of-" Grace gently swiped her thumb against Tara's cheek "-sauce."

"Thanks," Tara replied, scrubbing her palm against her cheek just to be sure it was completely gone.

Grace leaned a little closer with a mischievous expression on her face. "I would have licked it off but that sort of thing is usually done with chocolate sauce."

"And in private," Tara added hastily. She felt a wave of heat flood her cheeks.

Grace grinned in response. She held Tara's gaze for long enough for it to have intimate connotations. Her expression softened and her lips parted in anticipation as she began to lean forward. The moment ended abruptly when the entire stadium exploded in a frenzy of yelling and screaming. Grace was knocked accidentally as Faith leapt to her feet on her other side. Her attention was drawn to the game. When she too saw that the All Blacks had scored a try, she joined Faith and Karl in leaping up and down on her feet.

Tara slumped back against her seat. A moment later she realised that her response to Grace's aborted kiss had been less than enthusiastic. In fact, she felt very little. Her heart had not quickened in anticipation, she had not even moved a muscle towards the other woman.

When her friends finally stopped jumping up and down, she saw that Faith was staring down at her with a mildly annoyed expression. "Grace, could you tell your girlfriend to at least look slightly happy when we score? Anyone would think she was supporting the Aussies!"

Grace responded by drawing Tara to her feet in time to watch the kick sail through the goal posts for a successful conversion. She then drew her into an excited hug, pressing their bodies tightly together.

_Am I her girlfriend? Is Grace my girlfriend?_ Tara thought as she pressed her chin into Grace's shoulder. _I definitely didn't get that memo…_

As Tara sat down, she mulled over the status of her relationship with Grace. She glanced discreetly across at the dark-haired lawyer and found herself asking the serious question of whether she wanted Grace to be her girlfriend. At the very least she was out of synch with Grace's perception of their relationship. They had spent the past few weeks going out for either coffee or lunch most days. There had been a few movies. Grace had taken her out to dinner a few nights ago. There had been several kisses, but nothing that had even come close to resembling passionate frenzy that had erupted within fifteen minutes of her meeting Willow Rosenberg. Tara clenched her teeth. It seemed as though she couldn't go a week without thinking about the fiery redhead. She knew she couldn't spend the rest of her life comparing every lover to her. However, Willow Rosenberg had ripped her clothes off with such desire that even thinking about it made her heart beat a little faster. Although that encounter had been fuelled by alcohol on both their parts, Tara had never felt so fucking hot in her life.

As she looked at Grace, she realised that the torturously slow progression on their relationship – that she thought she had needed – wasn't what she needed at all. The next step however left her more than a little apprehensive.

Grace suddenly turned her head. She seemed pleasantly surprised to find Tara staring at her. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, speaking just loud enough for Tara to hear her.

_Ripping your clothes off,_ was what was on Tara's mind. It wasn't something she could bring herself to say. Instead she ducked her head and shook it uncomfortably.

"You're awfully cute, you know that?" Grace commented.

Tara lifted her head. "It's not something I say to myself in front of the mirror." She paused and drew in a breath. "Would you like to come home with me…after the game of course? For a coffee…or something."

Grace smiled widely, like a cat presented with an entire bowl of cream. She nodded. "Sure thing, baby."

Tara immediately felt guilty. She couldn't match Grace's smile with an equally sincere one of her own. Instead she turned her attention to the game and did her very best to feign interest in what was going on.

* * *

Up above the rest of the seats in the stadium, just below the rim of the cake tin, those lucky enough to have been invited to spots in the corporate boxes did not have to worry about the encroaching rain. Willow Rosenberg was paying very little attention to the game taking place below. She had only realised the game had started when Xander refused to talk to her any longer. Despite the fact her best friend was paying more attention to a field full of men in tight little shorts than to her, she was enjoying herself immensely.

She stood to one side of the room with a lemon, lime and bitters sitting barely touched on the table next to her. Xander had invited an interesting mix of people to share the corporate box. There were about twenty people in total. Although Willow knew most of them, she was pleasantly surprised to find a decent number of women she had yet to become acquainted with. Most of course looked to be already attached, however for Willow this was not ordinarily an obstacle, merely an inconvenience.

A tall blonde who looked as though she belonged on the cover of Sports Illustrated caught her eye. Willow had slept with enough models to be able to recognise one on sight. It was obvious in her proportions, the way she carried herself and the ease with which she moved in her ridiculously high heels. She didn't really care about comparisons, but it did make her take a second look at what she was wearing. Her attire was far more casual than most guests in the room, and far more casual than she would normally have worn. Although she wore an expensive pair of jeans that flattered her arse perfectly, a shirt by Karen Walker and boots that had cost her over a thousand dollars, she was still wearing jeans, a shirt and boots. What really pleased Willow immensely however, was the fact that it had taken her all of five minutes to get dressed instead of her usual hour.

She was still staring at the blonde model when she saw a much shorter man join her. Although he didn't see Willow staring, he slid his arm around her waist in a possessive manner. Willow merely shrugged and perused the rest of the offerings in the room.

Although there were several nice looking women, including one of the waitresses who kept bringing her the trays of food first, Willow soon realised that she was just filling in time until the game finished and Xander could pay attention to her. As nice as it was to look with her wandering eyes, her mind kept drifting to another blonde.

Over the past few weeks, Willow had finished three of Tara's books and was halfway through the fourth and final one. She would never have predicted that a day would come where she would have rather been at home with a book than at a party surrounded by people. If Willow were really being honest with herself, she would have admitted that she would rather be anywhere Tara was. Willow's ears pricked up suddenly. Somewhere, someone was calling her name.

"Will!" It was Xander calling out to her in an insistent voice. His head poked through the door leading to the private outside viewing area for their box. "Hey Will, you forked out for this box. Come out and enjoy it!"

He motioned insistently with his arm. Willow looked in disgust at the viewing area filled with those of Xander's friends who were seriously interested in the game. All it took to change her mind was for Xander to pull his puppy dog face and she gingerly made her way outside. She didn't have to worry about the cold night air when he wrapped her in both his arms and drew her back against his body. Tilting her head back, Willow deposited a kiss on his jaw.

"I'm glad you're having a good time," she said over the din of those around them.

"How could I not be? I'm surrounded by my friends and my favourite girl in the whole wide world…and we're winning," he said as he gave her a firm squeeze

"We are?" Willow asked with a frown.

She turned her attention to the field momentarily. She soon grew bored of watching men chase each other and get tackled to the ground. Xander released his embrace so he could cheer as the All Blacks threatened to score again. Her attention wandered, first to the cheerleaders that were strutting around the outside of the field with their little pom-poms and then to the crowds of people immediately below her corporate box.

In hindsight, she wasn't surprised that she was able to pick one particular person out of the crowd below. Although a red woollen hat covered most of her blonde hair, Willow could see enough of her face to know that the person who had drawn her attention was Tara. Her heart skipped several beats and she found herself leaning slightly forward against the railing.

For a moment, Willow wondered if Tara would be able to hear her if she called out. It was a ridiculous thought. The crowd was far too loud for one voice to carry even a relatively short distance. A better idea would be for her to make her way down to the stands and surprise the blonde. Willow grinned as the meeting played out in her head. The blonde would be surprised, and then Willow would turn on her charm to its fullest extent. However, just as she was about to turn away from the railing and head down to the stands, she saw a simple movement which made her freeze in her tracks. The woman sitting next to Tara casually leaned over and placed her arm around Tara's shoulders. Although Willow didn't have any formal qualifications, she did think of herself as an expert at reading body language and signals. The arm over the shoulder was done with confidence, without a hint of hesitation. The woman's hand remained on Tara's arm, squeezing her tight and drawing her over into an embrace too intimate to simply be one of friendship. An embrace intimate enough to spoil Willow's plans and leech any trace of enjoyment out of her evening.

She spluttered opened mouthed before realising that she would have looked slightly crazy to anyone that saw her. She closed her mouth but could not draw her gaze away. She hadn't even contemplated the fact that Tara would find someone else while she was off sorting herself out. With a sinking sensation in her gut, Willow realised how completely blind and foolish she had been. There was no doubt about the fact that Tara was a gorgeous young woman. It had been exceptionally irrational for her to just assume that she would remain single, and also more than a little conceited on her part. For her to assume that Tara would remain single, she had to have convinced herself that Tara shared her optimism about the potential of a relationship between them. While Willow had seen the possibility of something more than their one night stand, Tara obviously did not. It was a crushing realisation, and one for which Willow was unprepared.

Willow didn't stare long enough to make petty observations about the other woman's looks. With determination, she marched straight to the bar and seized the nearest glass of wine. The expensive sauvignon was downed in just a few gulps. As soon as she set one empty glass down, she picked up another and sent that the way of the first.

She was reaching for her third when a slight shadow fell over her. Without lifting the glass to her lips, Willow turned her head to see the tall, lithe young woman she had noticed earlier – the one she had presumed to be a model.

"Willow Rosenberg," she said softly. A charming smiled played across her lips.

Willow was hardly surprised the woman knew her name. Most people did, given the regularity with which she appeared in the social pages.

The model continued speaking before Willow could introduce herself. "I'm Claire Larsen. I must admit, after hearing so much about you, it is quite surprising to actually meet you in the flesh."

"I'm sorry to disappoint," Willow replied dismissively.

Claire shook her head and Willow even thought she saw her lick her lips ever so slightly. "Oh, on the contrary, I don't think you could possibly disappoint anyone."

_But I did,_ Willow thought, suppressing a sigh. _Despite the fact that I'm fucking hot and fucking good in bed, I disappointed her_. She studied Claire for a moment, disguising her scrutiny behind an expression of mild interest. There was no doubt that woman was stunning. Even with a sizeable heel on her own boots, Willow still found herself looking up at her. Claire's magnificent breasts were practically thrust into her face, much to close for someone as breast-orientated as Willow to ignore.

_I could have some fun here. What's the harm with fun?_ Willow cocked her head to one side and flashed a tiny smile. "I will deny any and all rumours you've heard about me."

"Including the ones that say you're an absolute genius between the sheets?" Claire lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

"Especially those ones," Willow replied, her smile widening. "I don't do anything between the sheets, I want to see everything."

"Do you? Because that can be arranged."

_It's just a bit of fun, and who doesn't like fun that comes with a pair of gorgeous tits?_ Willow thought, desperately trying to justify what she was contemplating doing. She wondered why it was suddenly so terribly difficult for her to walk out of a party with a woman in tow. She'd done it dozens of times before. This particular conquest had been easier than some, but she knew it wasn't the lack of a challenge which made it uninteresting.

As Claire lifted her wine glass to her lips and took a delicate sip, Willow noticed the wedding ring on her left hand. She made no effort to hide it whatsoever. Discreetly, Willow searched the room for the man she had seen at Claire's side earlier and found him outside, totally engrossed in the game. He was paying absolutely no attention to the fact that his wife was getting a little too up, close and personal with a notorious lesbian.

_She's shameless…and I should be ashamed of myself._ "Does your husband know what you're doing?" Willow asked quietly. She noticed that her third glass of wine was still in her hand. Without taking another sip, she set it back down on the bar.

"Mark never knows what I'm doing," Claire replied dismissively. She took another step forward and reduced the amount of space between them to practically nil. "And I hate rugby – he'll hardly bat an eyelid if I leave early."

Willow let out a breath as she felt the curves of Claire's body press up against her own. She couldn't deny the fact that she was tempted by the offer. It had been a long time since that night with Tara. As she realised she felt dirty and cheap, the longings went away and any desire to take up Claire's offer faded.

"Let's face it, I'm hot…and exceptionally hard to resist, and you're also hot…but a little easier to resist. If you don't like rugby, you should've just stayed home munching on your celery sticks and drinking diet coke." Willow knew as she said it that she was being rude. She had no problem with the fact that Claire had tried to pick her up, just with the fact that she would do it because she was bored. It was exactly the sort of thing she would have done herself a month ago.

Claire suddenly looked as though she'd swallowed a sour grape. With her eyes still bulging slightly, she spun on her heels and marched out of the corporate box. She turned around and half-expected to find everyone in the room staring at her. However, her voice had never been raised above normal conversation. No one else gave a damn about Willow Rosenberg turning down sex. In fact, Willow Rosenberg herself didn't give a damn that she had just turned down sex.

_God, I need to get out of here,_ Willow thought desperately. She didn't feel guilty for such a thought. While she had paid for the box, Xander was obviously the actual host. She went looking for him. It took her all of two seconds. He was still outside, yelling and whistling at the players down on the field below.

Willow tapped her best friend on the shoulder. He spun around and she could tell he was having a good time by the way the broad grin was fixed on his face. However as soon as he saw the rather glum expression on her face, that grin disappeared to be replaced by concern.

"You look like someone who just found out that their Fendi is actually a cheap knock-off. Is everything alright?"

She forced a tentative nod, then shrugged and shook her head. "It's nothing…I just feel ill." Xander pressed his hand to her forehead. If anything, she was icy cold rather than warm. Willow ducked away from any further scrutiny. "I might head home. Will you be alright with your guests?"

Xander frowned. "Of course, but you've got me all worried, Will. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Willow shook her head again and even managed a flicker of a smile to convince him that she wasn't about to drop dead any second. "I just need to go home. I'll jump in a taxi."

"Want me to walk you to the taxi stand?" he offered.

"You're a dear, dear friend Xander but even I know that you don't want to miss a second of the game. Stay right here, it's an open bar…watch the men in tight shorts, be with your friends. I'll see you for our ten o'clock in the morning."

"Are you sure you don't want to postpone?"

"Quite sure," Willow said as she embraced him firmly. "Make sure you have as much fun as humanly possible."

"Without you?" he stepped back, his puppy dog eyes returning. "It'll be a tall order, but I'll do my best. See you tomorrow, honey."

Willow blew Xander a kiss and made a discreet exit from the box to avoid any other goodbyes. Given that she was leaving early, she had no problems getting a taxi from the ranks waiting outside the stadium. Once she fended off the taxi driver's questions as to why she was leaving the game early, it was a quiet taxi ride home.

When Willow stepped over the threshold of her apartment fifteen minutes later, she took a moment to reflect on the unusual situation. Watching the rugby wasn't exactly a night out on the town but most people would still consider it a 'night out.' She, Willow Rosenberg, had yet again returned alone from a night out. As she closed her door and strode across to toss her keys on the bench she wondered whether her new outlook on life was going to amount to anything but loneliness. Obviously, Tara Maclay had moved on. She had moved on from her.

Willow moved through into her bedroom. She sighed at the neatly made bed. It was very nearly depressing. She sat heavily on the bed and drew her cell phone from her jacket pocket. Her fingers hovered on the verge of tapping out a text message telling Xander that she was going to join him in town after all. She glanced at her clock. They'd all be heading to Imerst soon, to be surrounded by people, by life. However, instead of writing the text she yawned and set the phone down.

It took her a few moments to strip her clothes off. She let them lie on the floor where they fell before flopping naked into her bed. It was a warm evening and she only half-heartedly tugged the sheets up over her body. The curtains were still open but she didn't care. For some reason the moonlight filtering into her room was comforting. The blue light gave the otherwise ordinary room an otherworldly sheen.

She rolled over onto back and stared up at the ceiling. The memory of Tara snuggling with her new girlfriend strolled unbidden into her mind. As the peace of night descended, it was all she was able to think about. With an exasperated sigh she rolled over and buried her head into her pillow. The image did not change. She still saw the two of them together. Even worse, she imagined them arriving home from the rugby, falling into bed in one another's arms. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

The image haunted her until she mercifully drifted off to sleep an hour later. However, instead of dreaming of herself with Tara, her sleep was infested with dreams of Tara and another woman. She could only watch in frustration.


	13. Truth be Veiled

**Chapter 13**

**Truth be veiled, but still it burneth**

Tara felt lethargic as she went about the simple motions of making coffee. It was almost as though she were standing outside of her own body, watching someone else manipulate her arms and legs. She moved about the kitchen in a mechanical fashion and took twice as long as she normally would just to make two cups of coffee. For a moment, she couldn't remember whether Grace took milk and sugar in her coffee. Then she conjured up a memory of the two of them having lunch at a café. She remembered Grace ordering trim milk but subsequently stirring in a small spoonful of sugar - a combination she thought rather strange at the time.

Grace was sitting on the couch, flipping through one of Tara's coffee table books. She looked up when she heard Tara approach and smiled broadly as she accepted the cup of coffee. Taking a seat next to her on the couch, Tara immediately picked up the TV remote. For some reason it was almost instinctive, even though ordinarily she wouldn't watch TV when she had company. While Grace was an excellent conversationalist, and had proven this on many past occasions, for some reason she just didn't feel like talking. She switched the TV on and began flicking through the channels without any real sense of purpose. Finally Tara settled on a repeat episode of 'Fringe.' Grace shifted until she was contentedly leaning on Tara's shoulder.

Tara tried to make her coffee last as long as possible. She drained the dregs just as Fringe finished with a cliff-hanger and the program was replaced by a mindless comedy show. Instead of resuming channel surfing, Tara flicked the TV off and silence descended. She instantly regretted her decision as Grace leaned forward and deposited her own empty cup on the coffee table. Tara drew in a breath and followed suit. She could hear her heart thumping in her head with anticipation.

She turned and looked at Grace, knowing it had been a mistake to invite her back to her apartment. It wasn't the right time, and she didn't know if it ever would be.

Grace however, did not sense any of this. She leaned forward and trailed her fingers through the strands of Tara's hair that had escaped from her woollen hat. Tara hadn't even realised she was still wearing it. Grace grinned and tugged it off, tossing it to the floor. She didn't stop with just the hat, her fingers went to the sweater Tara wore and gentle began tugging it upwards. Tara shifted slightly so it could slide off more easily. Her t-shirt came off with the sweater and she found herself wearing just her bra. Her cheeks flooded with heat.

"My god, you are gorgeous," Grace whispered. With the pads of her fingers pressing gently on Tara's chest, she pushed her back against the cushions.

Tara didn't feel threatened as Grace manoeuvred atop her, her thighs shifting between her own and nudging them apart. She did however feel a sense of shame as she realised just how little she wanted it to happen. _It's just sex for god's sake. Sex is supposed to be good, even when it doesn't mean anything,_ Tara thought, trying to convince herself that she could go through this. A part of Tara responded to Grace's eager touch, especially where her thigh was jammed between her legs. Instinctively she thrust her hips upwards, capturing some much needed friction. Moments later Grace was depositing kisses along the smooth lines of her neck, working upwards until she found Tara's lips. Allowing her eyes to close, Tara found herself gradually giving in to the pleasant sensations coursing throughout her body. The kiss deepened, becoming the sort of desperate contact that usually preceded the removal of clothes. However when Grace's hand gently manoeuvred beneath her bra to cup one of her tits, Tara realised that the remote was digging into her back. She twisted slightly but could not extricate herself. Grace broke the kiss so she could pay attention to Tara's breasts, levering the bra upwards and lowering her mouth to the nearest one. Tara let out a gasp, but she could not shake the discomfort of the hard plastic.

"Grace…please…" Tara whispered. "Stop."

"Are you okay?" Grace asked as she drew back and shifted into a sitting position, concern etched on her face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Sorry," Tara began as she too sat up on the couch. When she reached beneath her back for the remote, she realised she was grateful for the interruption. "I just can't-"

Grace stopped whatever it was she had been about to say by gently cupping Tara's cheeks in her hands. She smiled tenderly and wished she could find a fast acting remedy for the sadness she found in Tara's eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart, I understand," she said gently. "Please don't tell Faith I told you but…she kind of told me about what happened in your last relationship."

Tara's thoughts immediately went to Willow. Her mouth tightened at the thought of Faith telling Grace about her one night stand and the subsequent disastrous attempt at dating. Her cheeks coloured involuntarily and all she wanted to do was turn her face away. Grace however, continued to touch her face. She swept her thumb over Tara's cheekbones and gentle fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"About that…" Tara couldn't even find the words. She wanted desperately to say that it had never meant anything. While she believed that was very much true from Willow's perspective, she couldn't say the same for her own.

Thankfully, Grace continued before she had to lie.

"She told me about Audrey. I found it hard to believe what Faith told me. You didn't find out that she was cheating on you until after her death? That's awful, and I am truly sorry for moving this relationship much too fast for you. You need time, Tara. I promise I won't push you into anything."

"Oh," was all Tara could say in response. _She's an honest to goodness saint._

Grace misinterpreted Tara's reticence on the subject as pain. She leaned forward and kissed Tara lightly. "I think it's probably best that I go home."

She stood up and moved towards the door. Tara followed her, knowing she should say something to try and make her stay. For a moment, she thought that perhaps just spending the night in someone else's arms would help her. However she still couldn't bring herself to say anything, even when Grace opened the door and stepped out.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Grace said as she paused in the doorway. "That is, if you still want me there?"

Tara nodded and managed a smile. "Of course I want you there. Someone has to keep me safe from the hoards of fans wanting my autograph."

"True, and no doubt some wanting more than an autograph from the incredibly beautiful and talented Tara Maclay," Grace replied with a wink. "Which is a definite no-no, because she is well and truly spoken for."

Tara nodded again, "She is." Although even as she said it, she couldn't help but feel she was saying it as much for her own benefit as Grace's.

They kissed again. It did not last long enough to remind Tara what she was missing out on. Tara shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, as though she were keeping the rest of the world at bay.

"That was a disaster," she whispered to herself.

While Grace was the most patient lesbian on the face of the planet, Tara knew the truth would come out eventually. She would feel awful for leading the other woman on to the extent she had.

"Goddamn you, Willow Rosenberg," Tara growled as she finally left the door.

She walked to her couch and fell heavily on it, her head nestling amongst the cushions. As hard as she tried to imagine how the evening could have gone with Grace, all she could see in her mind was the redhead's mischievous grin. A slight groan of annoyance left her throat when she realised how incredibly turned on she was at the mere thought of Willow and sex. There was no doubt about it, Willow Rosenberg had completely ruined her sex life.

With an exasperated grunt, Tara left the couch and went in search of a very cold shower.

* * *

Willow kept her promise to Xander. She turned up at the gym at precisely 10am even though she had slept poorly. Bodyworks was predictably empty for a Sunday morning following a rugby match. Willow was relieved, she did not want to deal with a gym full of other people huffing, puffing and sweating around her. In fact, Willow thought she ought to give serious consideration to purchasing her own home gym equipment, especially considering she was apparently no longer interested in checking out the sweaty bodies of fellow female gym goers. However, buying gym equipment meant having a room to put it in. The solution was to buy a bigger apartment. Previously she had always shunned the idea of moving. She was attached to her apartment. Now, she thought a new apartment could be another stepping stone in her climb to attain the 'new Willow.' Perhaps after she finished at the gym she would spend an hour or two browsing online property sites.

She found Xander leaning over a treadmill as though he was checking the settings. However, following a closer look, Willow saw he had his eyes closed and there was a sickly pallor to his skin. It was a condition she recognised all too well from having experienced it herself many times. She dumped her gym bag on the floor at his feet.

"Xander Harris, don't tell me you need to be the one to postpone our session?" she asked, playfully tickling him at the nape of his neck.

He instinctively scrunched up his shoulders and ducked away from her wandering fingers. As soon as his hands left the stable support of the treadmill, he tottered on unsteady legs. For a moment Willow thought she might have to catch him. However, he regained his composure, straightened his polo shirt and attempted to look as though he had full control of his faculties.

"All I have to do is supervise you while you do all the work," he noted with a smug smile.

"Are you sure watching me work out isn't going to make you queasy?" she lifted her eyebrows inquiringly.

"Shut up and get on the bloody treadmill!" he snapped. Xander had to pause and clutch at his temples. Obviously raising his voice hadn't been the best move.

With a wink, Willow complied and punched the buttons herself to take her to a brisk walk. Her legs felt a little lethargic after a poor sleep but she soon settled into a rhythm. Xander resumed his previous position, merely choosing a machine that wasn't being used to lean on. He did manage to keep one eye open, watching her as she gradually upped the speed until she was at a light jog.

"Are you going to tell me the real reason why you left the game?" he eventually asked.

Willow swiped at her already damp forehead with her towel. She turned to look at him and sighed. It was pathetic of her to attempt to keep a secret from her best friend, especially when his advice was exactly what she needed. With Tara and her new girlfriend firmly on her mind, Willow stabbed her finger down on the speed button until her legs were pumping at a steady pace.

"I saw her," she said through gritted teeth. She soon realised that gritting her teeth wasn't the best move while she was running. The importance of getting air to her lungs meant that she actually had to breathe once in a while. Willow allowed her muscles to relax and the movement came easier.

"Who?" When Xander received an angry glare from Willow in response, he forced his brain to work through the possibilities. Even in his befuddled state, it did not take him long to propose a name. "Tara?"

"No, Angelina Jolie," Willow replied with scathing sarcasm.

She ran on in disgruntled silence for almost a minute before she thought she ought to apologise. "Sorry. I slept badly last night. Yes, Tara, and she was with someone else."

"Just with?" Xander asked. "Or _with_ with?"

"_With_ with," Willow confirmed in a dejected voice. She continued to up the speed on the treadmill as she felt she needed a sprint to clear her foggy head.

As she was breathing too heavily to talk, Xander was left to mull over her admission for a good fifteen minutes before she decreased her speed. When a much sweatier and exhausted Willow settled into a brisk walk, he felt as though it was the right time to pick up the conversation again.

"So how does that make you feel?" he probed.

Willow turned to look at him. "What do you mean, 'how do I feel?' This is fucking ridiculous, that's how I feel!"

"You're pissed because someone else is fucking her when you think it should be you?

"Yes!" Willow agreed readily. "Does there need to be another reason?"

Xander stared at her as though she had suddenly lost a large number of brain cells all at once. "Maybe because you're in love with her?"

"Love? Have you started watching daytime soaps again?" Willow asked suspiciously, her mouth twisting slightly over the 'L' word.

"Yep!" Xander admitted proudly. "But that doesn't have anything to do with my observations of you. You're changing your lifestyle for this woman. Will-"

"I'm not changing my lifestyle for anyone other than myself," Willow interrupted him. She stumbled slightly as she was concentrating on Xander instead of her feet on the treadmill.

Xander reached out and slammed his fist down on the machine's emergency stop button. "Hop off, you idiot, before you do yourself some damage. I think a little weight training is in order."

Predictably, Willow let out a low groan. Weight training wasn't exactly her favourite form of exercise. Xander managed to reign in his badgering for the time it took for Willow to complete her reps on a series of weight machines. He waited until the redhead was exhausted and dripping in sweat before he mentioned Tara again. That way, she was too drained to even think about punching him.

Willow was indeed wiped out after her work out. It was all she could do to bend over and fetch her gym bag from the floor. She withdrew a bottle of sports drink and took a hefty swig. When she finally lowered the half empty bottle, she caught Xander looking at her with an annoyingly familiar expression on his face.

A small growl escaped her throat. "You're not going to let it go are you?"

"And you're not going to come to your senses." Xander sighed in exasperation. "I guess you won't be interested in what I picked up for you on the way to work this morning?"

He reached into the back pocket of his shorts and withdrew a folded piece of paper. Willow gingerly accepted it. She unfolded it to see it was a flyer, although it wasn't advertising discounted car parking or some other service she didn't want – it was advertising a book signing by Tara Maclay. She found herself smiling slightly, Tara's latest book had been released. She glanced at the date to see that it was tomorrow.

"Does that silly little smile on your face mean you'll be there with bells on?" Xander asked hopefully.

The smile was quickly wiped from Willow's face as she looked up at Xander. "It most certainly does not. It just means I'll have something to read when I finish her fourth book."

"Okay, let me just process that," Xander said as he scratched his head. "You're telling me you've not only read one book, you've read four?"

"Three and three-quarters," Willow corrected him as she stuffed the sports drink back into her bag.

Such semantics didn't concern Xander. "You've read books…plural?"

"Yes, books!" Willow snapped. "Do you want to plaster it all over Facebook or something?"

"I might just do that," Xander replied seriously. "Although the resulting shock and hysteria that would accompany it might not be worth it. Willow Rosenberg is reading books, the end of the world is nigh!"

"Xan…I'm not going and that's all there is to it."

"Just take the flyer home with you and think it over?" he suggested hopefully, puppy dog expression returning. "I'm not your enemy, Will. You know I just want you to be happy."

Willow made a face that made her look as though she were about to vomit. However, after a few moments her expression softened. "Yeah, I know you do. I appreciate it really."

Newly encouraged, Xander waved the flyer in front of her face. She snatched it away from him with an obliging smile and stuffed it into her gym bag.

"I might think about it. I have a lot on tomorrow. Even if I did want to go, I'm not sure if I could."

"Will, what exactly do you have on tomorrow?" Xander narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Stuff, very important stuff," Willow replied haughtily. "The type of stuff that takes a lot of time."

Xander grinned and, ignoring the layer of sweat covering her body, drew his best friend into a firm hug. Willow allowed him to kiss her cheek before she went in search of a hot shower.

Once safely inside the women's changing rooms and away from Xander's accusing gaze, Willow pulled the crumpled flyer out of her bag. She read it completely...twice. Her eyes lingered over the small black and white portrait of Tara.

* * *

Willow awoke to the warming shafts of sunlight falling on her face. She yawned, stretched and rolled over onto her side. Although there was no real reason for her to get out of bed, she felt a nagging sense of urgency. She opened her eyes, squinting for a moment as the light hit them. Her gaze had opened right onto the piece of paper se had crumpled and tossed on her bedside table the night before. Tentatively, she reached out and picked it up. She rolled over onto her back and unfurled it.

The words, of course, had not changed. It was her resolve that had shifted. She remembered her instant refusal the moment Xander suggested she go and was surprised to find that she had changed her mind. Willow glanced at her clock. The signing was at ten, so she had a little over an hour to get herself ready and downtown to Unity Books. After lingering just a few moments longer, she rose up in one decisive movement. Obviously the universe wanted her to confront Tara, and she wasn't about to stand in it's way.

Almost exactly an hour later, Willow found herself standing outside Unity Books on Willis Street. Given Tara's popularity, there was already a sizeable queue formed outside. It was mostly made up of women, but there were a few men who were either obtaining signed copies for their female partners or enjoying a little guilty pleasure of their own.

Willow joined the back of the queue and stood tensely. Her palms began to sweat slightly and she knew it wasn't due to the warm day. She glanced at her reflection in a shop window and re-evaluated her outfit. After some deliberating, she had taken off the cute sundress she had originally chosen and opted instead for jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of sneakers. It was so decidedly plain that she knew it would surprise Tara. The blonde had only ever seen her in high-end designer gear.

A few minutes later, the queue shuffled obediently forward as the signing began. Willow's heart jumped several beats and she thought for a few awful seconds that she had forgotten her wallet in her dash out of her apartment. However there it was, tucked safely in the back pocket of her jeans. She sighed, forgetting her wallet would have made a good excuse to leave. With no other excuses, Willow was about to come face to face with Tara for the first time in over a month. It was undoubtedly one of the hardest things she had ever had to do in her life.


	14. All Love is Sweet

**Chapter 14 **

**All Love is sweet**

Tara felt as though she had been signing autographs for a month when she finally set her pen down and took a short break. As she flexed her aching fingers, she could have sworn she heard a slight crack. She took a glance towards the line and saw that it still stretched right through the bookstore and out the door. Despite her fatigue, she was incredibly grateful that people enjoyed her work enough to meet her in person and let her know. Some were buying books for wives or partners, but most were there for themselves. Although it did grow rather repetitive, Tara did not tire of hearing just how much people enjoyed her stories and the characters within them. She wrote because she loved writing, but to have others actually want to read what she wrote, made her love it even more.

It was with such thoughts in mind that she retrieved her well-worn pen and began signing once more. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder and did not need to look up to know that it was Grace. True to her word, she had accompanied her to the signing. Even though it had been over an hour, she was still there and not looking the slightest bit bored at standing around doing very little.

"You looked wiped, hun," Grace observed quietly. "Maybe you should take a break?"

Tara looked up and smiled quickly. She glanced across at the fruit and muffins that the organisers of the event had set out for her. The muffins were bran, which weren't exactly what she felt like at that moment. "No thanks, I don't want to be a pain but I really just feel like a chocolate bar…just something plain would be great."

"Hey, no problem. I'll pop across the street and get you one, won't be long," Grace said with a nod.

No sooner had her girlfriend left her side, Tara returned to signing autographs. A small boy stepped up to the table, obviously much too young to be reading her work. He was buying a book for his mother's birthday. His father hovered over his shoulder and listened approvingly as the boy used his very best manners. Next was a woman old enough to be her grandmother. She gushed about Tara's previous book and scolded her lightly about the length of time she had to wait for a new book. Tara promised not to make her wait so long the next time. A young man who looked to be almost her own age approached the table nervously. Tara couldn't help but suppress a smile as he admitted that the book wasn't for a girlfriend or mother, but himself.

So the line went on, Tara enjoyed meeting each person in turn. She took the time to chat with each one which made the process a little slower that it had to be. No one complained that they had been made to wait too long. Grace still had not returned with her chocolate bar. She wasn't overly concerned but was craving the hit of sugar to perk her up a little. The next book to be signed was placed on the table in front of her but she did not look up as she gave her hand a quick massage.

She forced out a discreet breath, trying not to let her shoulders sag as she poised her pen above the page. "Who should I make it out to?"

Willow was somewhat pleased that Tara had not noticed her standing in line. Seeing the blonde from across the room had been hard enough, but to have caught her attention and stand in the agonizingly slow queue as Tara knew she was coming, would have been unbearable. She would have half-expected Tara to announce to the room that she had finished signing autographs for the day and make a hasty exit out a back door.

"That heinous bitch whose ex girlfriend gave you a black eye," Willow said in response. Tara's head jerked up at the sound of her voice. At the first sight of those blue eyes, her heart nearly stopped. "O-or you could just go with Willow."

_Holy fuck_, was Tara's first remotely coherent thought. She then thought about saying something but she could find no words for the occasion. As she blatantly stared up at the redhead standing over the table she found herself unable to draw her eyes away. There was something different about her. Tara had a mental image of Willow that was almost perfect, at least in terms of her appearance – her personality was something else altogether. Her attire of t-shirt and jeans took Tara by surprise. It was so plain, so ordinary. She could have been anyone on the street, save for her stunning natural beauty which would have still turned heads. Willow's trademark arrogance seemed to be absent. Tara was further surprised when Willow ducked her head away from her stare in a movement that reminded her of her own instinctive habit. _Was she always this adorable?_

_Smile dammit Rosenberg…and words, some words would come in really handy_. Willow tried curling her lips up into a winning smile but she was so nervous they ended up trembling slightly. The smile was wiped quickly when she feared she may look like a gibbering idiot. "Um…I heard on the grapevine that some really famous author was supposed to be here signing books today."

_Oh my god, she really is that adorable. Stop it, Tara. She's trouble and you know it!_ "Some really famous author, huh? Well if you see one, can you let me know?" Tara found herself unable to suppress the grin that kept spreading across her face. "What would you like me to write?" _How about 'I can't stop thinking about you?_'

Willow pursed her lips for a moment, '_How about 'I forgive you for being a total arse, can we start over?'_ "Um, just 'for Willow' or something…whatever you want. I mean, something appropriate."

Tara bent her head and stopped with her pen poised above the page. She had absolutely no idea what to write and needed to stall for time. However, as she glanced back up at Willow, there was really only one thing she could think of saying. "You look really nice." _I should have said hot._

"Thanks," Willow replied. Her cheeks obligingly went bright red. "You do too, as always.

"Um, how are you?" _Because you look really, really hot._

Willow smiled as she thought of the past weeks of de-toxing, regular gym visits and no alcohol or drugs whatsoever. She also thought of her completely dead sex life and tried to suppress a sign of longing. "Pretty much fine…y'know…fine really. How about you? How have you been?"

Immediately thinking of the month or so that had passed since they had last seen each other and her awkward relationship with Grace, Tara swallowed quickly. "I've been-" _Miserable without you…my sex life is non-existent except in my dreams where I'm with you. I'm in a relationship with a nice girl I don't love because of you_. "-good. Pretty good I guess. I did manage to publish a book."

Willow grinned. "You did. Congratulations of course…um, I'm sure it's really good." _That was just about the daftest observation you could have made, Rosenberg. Good one!_

"You haven't had the chance to read it yet," Tara pointed out with a slight chuckle. "It might suck."

Willow shrugged, trying to think of a witty comment about Tara's talent. Despite her work being thoroughly worthy of praise, her mind wasn't working properly. "Well, it's thick and heavy…so it must be good."

"Thick and heavy? That's your assessment of a good book?" Tara asked sceptically as her grin faded. _She really hasn't changed…[_

Willow drew in a breath. "Well, no, I suppose not. Loss of Innocence has been your longest book to date, but Land of Fire is my favourite even though it's the shortest…although only by twenty-three pages." Willow had completely lost track of where she was going with her explanation. She drew in another deep breath and tried to make her point concisely. "What I'm trying to say is that all of your books are thick and heavy…and they're all good…so I think I'm right to presume that this one will be good too."

Tara stared at Willow in disbelief with her mouth slightly open. "You've read my books? All of them?"

"C'mon, Tara, you're not that prolific. There are only four…well, five now," Willow joked as she nodded towards the one that sat open in front of Tara. "And there are people waiting, so you had better sign it so you can move onto your next fan."

_How can I give a shit about the next fan while you're standing in front of me?_ Tara could only nod as she went back to staring at the frontispiece of her book. There were a million things that she wanted to write, starting with 'I can't stop thinking about you' but she couldn't bring herself to put her pen to paper.

"How's your girlfriend?" Willow asked quietly. It was a reluctant question, but she needed to know for her own sake.

Tara's whole body twitched involuntarily, as though someone had just poked her hard between her shoulder blades. "Grace? She's…um…how did you…"

"Sorry," Willow interrupted. "I didn't mean to be nosey."

"It's okay, really. Um, Grace is good, thank you for asking. "Tara swallowed awkwardly. "H-how is your girlfriend…or should I say girlfriends?"

Willow flushed. "I'm not seeing anyone, plural or otherwise."

_Why does she look so uncomfortable?_ Tara thought, trying to stop from frowning. The Willow she knew ought to have been confessing to a string of conquests. "Oh," was her only verbal response as her mind continued to work_. She's single…_

As if on cue, Grace returned to the table with Tara's chocolate bar just as she was trying to work out what the red flush in Willow's cheeks signified. Grace placed the chocolate discreetly at her elbow and kissed the top of her head briefly. Tara saw Willow shift her stance uncomfortably and she wished fervently that Grace would move away from the table.

"Sorry to take so long, I ran into an old friend on the street," Grace said as she glanced quickly at Willow. She noticed that Tara seemed uncomfortable and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah, I was just talking to…ahhh…Willow, this is Grace Palmer. Grace, Willow Rosenberg. Willow is a…" Tara motioned towards Willow with an awkward movement of her hand as she tried to think of the right choice of words.

Willow stepped in to fill the silence by extending her hand towards Grace. "Willow Rosenberg, nice to meet you."

Grace took Willow's hand. She cocked her head slightly as though thinking about something. "I remember that name from this morning's paper…it was one of those gossip snippets mentioning that you had hooked up with Claire Larsen. Probably a load of BS though isn't it? They usually are."

_What the fuck?_ Willow thought with raised eyebrows as she immediately let go of Grace's hand. She felt an icy stab through her heart when she saw the disappointed expression on Tara's face. _Don't look at me like that, I'm not the one who's dating someone else!_

"Isn't Claire Larsen married to one of the partners over at Buddle Finlay?" Grace continued.

"Yeah she is," Willow replied, staring at Tara's new girlfriend with undisguised loathing. "Which is precisely why I turned her down."

"You make a terrible liar, Willow," Tara observed quietly.

"I'm not…" Willow was about to launch into an angry refutation of Tara's statement but she realised that the simple words had hurt her. She knew she wasn't lying, but given her reputation and what she had done to Tara in the past, the evidence hardly supported that she was telling the truth. She turned and glanced over her shoulder. For the first time in a few minutes, she remembered that there were other people waiting in line to get their books signed. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene for Tara at her book signing. "Um, I've gotta go…I have a work out scheduled with Xander. You remember him? My friend…you went to his birthday party? Anyway, training session…he'll be pissed if I'm late," Willow babbled, feeling her legs giving out beneath her. She glanced quickly up at Grace Palmer. "Um, nice to meet you…um, Grace. Bye, Tara. See you around some time." The walls of the book store were starting to close in on her. Suddenly the crowd surrounding her was moving towards her.

With that, Willow hastily picked up her copy of Tara's book and left clutching it to her chest. She pushed her way through the crowd and out onto the street. She paused on the street for a few seconds before turning to walk at a brisk pace back towards her apartment. However, she only made it around the corner before she felt hot tears burning in her eyes.

Willow ducked into a nearby doorway and pressed her back against the cold stone as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. Although she angrily scrubbed them away, more continued to flow until her shoulders were shaking slightly.

She was angry at herself. Her going to Tara's book signing had been nothing short of a complete disaster. She had even let a simple, snide piece of gossip get to her. Willow had been mentioned in the gossip section frequently. She was usually able to laugh all of the comments off, even though they were mostly true. This time it was a blatant untruth. It wasn't the gossip that hurt; it was the fact that Tara hasn't believed her.

Only after she managed to stem the tears, did she continue walking home. It was only then that she realised Tara had not even signed the book she held so tightly against her chest.

* * *

Tara flexed her hand, surprised that she could still move it after her marathon signing effort that morning. She lay reclining on the couch in Grace's apartment, her head resting in the other woman's lap. She was trying to read a book but her mind kept replaying the day's events.

The signing itself had gone tremendously well. Unity Books had almost sold out of her book and Bridget had sent her a text to say it was much the same throughout every bookstore in Wellington and the rest of the country. She should have been over the moon, and yet she felt sick to her stomach. Based on merely a stupid clipping in the newspaper she had called Willow a liar. Tara was furious at herself for being so judgemental. She was also angry at Grace for bringing it up in the first place. Although she knew Grace to be kind and sweet, she couldn't help but wonder if she had brought it up deliberately. It was a stupid thought; Grace knew nothing about her history with Willow.

"Sweetie, your friend Willow…"

Tara was caught off guard slightly at Willow's name being spoken aloud. She interrupted Grace before she could continue, "I wouldn't exactly call Willow a friend."

If Grace was taken aback by the haste with which Tara corrected her, she didn't say anything. Immediately however, Tara bit her lip in regret. Her refutation had done the opposite of what she had intended. She suddenly felt claustrophobic and had to sit up, moving to the opposite end of the sofa with the pretense of wanting a cushion.

Grace merely smiled. "So she was something more?"

"W-what?" Tara spluttered, completed caught off guard even though she had been expecting the assumption. She clutched the cushion to her chest. "N-no, I just meant that we barely know each other. I don't know her well enough to call her a friend."

Tara hoped the guilt did not show on her face. She desperately wanted to run away, or at least look at the floor but that would only make Grace suspicious.

"You called her out on her lie though?" Grace asked quietly.

"You haven't been in town for long enough. Willow Rosenberg has a bit of a reputation for being a ladies lady," Tara replied. Although it was nothing short of the truth, it was malicious and she knew it. _Maybe she really has changed…_ Tara remembered the expression on Willow's face when Grace had mentioned the article. Had her surprise been genuine? _Oh god, I'm a bitch. I should call her._

Grace shrugged, seemingly satisfied. "I can see why. She's gorgeous. I am extremely glad Faith introduced me to you when she did or you might have been added to her list of conquests."

Tara could swear her cheeks were burning. "I wouldn't even go there. Willow Rosenberg is so far out of my league she might as well be in another galaxy."

"I feel bad for bringing up that stupid snippet," Grace admitted with a worried frown. "I just said the first thing that popped into my head."

"Don't worry about it. Willow is thick-skinned," Tara brushed it off. "I'm sure she's clipping out that article and framing it as we speak."

That was mercifully the end of the conversation. Grace appeared satisfied with Tara's lies. Tara herself felt sick to her stomach for lying to Grace yet again. However, the thought of telling her about the one night stand with Willow made her feel all the more nauseous.

Tara knew now that it wasn't because she regretted what had happened between them. The night with Willow had been the best night of her life. She eventually had to admit to herself that it was because she knew there was no possibility that it would ever happen again. That admission was enough to make her feel as though she would never really live again.

If she admitted to Grace that something had happened between her and Willow, then the truth would come out. Grace would realise she was still desperately in love with the fiery redhead. With a reassuring smile in Grace's direction, lest she ask her what was wrong, Tara left the couch in search of her cell phone.


	15. Like Hues & Harmonies of Evening

**~Chapter 15 ~ **

**Like hues and harmonies of evening  
**

The sun was low in the sky, still sending out warm rays that fell across Willow's face. She sat in the back seat of a taxi, watching nothing in particular as she stared out the window. It was a Saturday night, she was on her way to the annual Lesbian Ball, and yet she didn't feel half as excited as she ought to feel. Still, at least she was heading into town. It had taken her the past two weeks to recover from her embarrassing encounter with Tara at the book signing. Two weeks she had spent hiding in her apartment. Two weeks where she had only emerged to go to the gym or pick up groceries.

Something tickled just behind her ear and she squirmed, instinctively ducking her chin to her chest in an effort to make a smaller target. She turned to Xander sitting on the seat next to her and poked him in the ribs with a grin.

"Sorry, just had to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep on me," he said. "We're almost there."

"Feels like we just hopped in the taxi," Willow smoothed her palms over her pants.

"Well, we did just hop in the taxi. It would have only taken us twenty minutes to walk from your house," Xander pointed out.

"Would you want to walk for twenty minutes in those heels?" Willow asked. She nodded towards the five-inch heels that Xander had squeezed his feet into.

"You are both intelligent and beautiful, Will," Xander agreed.

The taxi drew up outside their destination. Xander paid while Willow hoped out onto the sidewalk and surveyed her outfit. She wore an exceptionally expensive suit she had bought from the best bespoke tailor in town. Every part of the black three-piece outfit fitted her perfectly, even the black tie. She straightened it in her reflection even though it was already straight. Her shoes were shiny and black, she had a neat purple handkerchief in her breast pocket and her hair was slicked back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck.

"You are perfect, Will," Xander stepped out of the taxi and caught her looking at herself.

Willow turned. "So are you."

Xander attempted a curtsey on his heels but wobbled slightly. He wore a somewhat less flattering outfit - knee length blue dress with thin shoulder straps. He wore a bobbed wig and Willow had done his makeup. His legs were shaved smooth and as he pirouetted, Willow had to admit that he had very nice calves.

Willow extended her arm and he took it with a grateful smile. Arm in arm, they strode confidently inside. The ball was on the twelfth floor so they headed for the lift. Heading in the opposite direction were other party-goers who had succumbed to nicotine cravings and were heading outside for a cigarette.

"I am so proud of you for coming tonight, sweetie," Xander said as they stepped inside. "You have taken your first step towards moving on from she-who-must-not-be-named."

Willow looked up at him. "You know, I can hear her name without feeling like I'm going to burst into tears."

"Well, you couldn't a few days ago…and I'm not taking any chances. You'll damage your chances of scoring if you're all blotchy faced and red-eyed."

"Okay, I may be emotionally scarred, but scoring won't be a problem," Willow admitted. "I'm still just as hot as I ever was. The problem is I don't want to just score. I want to wake up with someone tomorrow morning and not want to see how fast I can get them out of my apartment."

The lift let out a small ding, announcing their floor. Just before the doors opened, Willow felt every shred of confidence she had been building up melt away in an instant. She tightened her hold on Xander's arm, grateful for his solid presence. The doors swept open, they stepped out of the lift and into a sea of women.

While Xander did make a rather fetching Drag Queen, it was blatantly obvious that he was a guy in drag. Ignoring the rather pointed and disapproving glares thrown in Xander's direction, the pair strode into the venue. Willow fought the urge to tug her bow tie and lost. She reached up to loosen it away from her skin where it was itching like crazy. Combined with the itching, she felt a curious sensation flood through her body which she soon realised was nerves. After a quick scan of the room she confirmed the source of those nerves. She saw at least half a dozen women she had slept with and many more that had been brief trysts in one of the dark corners of Imerst. With a firm grip on Xander's arm, she steered him to the side of the room.

"This was a bad idea!" she hissed in his ear. "Very bad indeed!"

Xander turned to regard her serenely from beneath his fake eyelashes. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Willow Rosenberg? This is your bread and butter, Will! Your hunting ground! A few months ago you would have walked in here, head held high and left swooning women in your wake - shark in a sea full of fish!"

Willow knew Xander had a point. However, when she stared at the crowd of women that filled the hall, it was she who was the tiny fish in a sea of sharks. She felt Xander's hand on her shoulder and he spun her around to face him instead of the room full of shark-like lesbians. It gave her the strength to at least keep from running out of the room.

"Willow, you are fucking gorgeous, sexy as hell and most of these women would crawl over broken glass just to sweat in your shadow," Xander said firmly. "Repeat after me, 'I am fucking gorgeous and sexy as hell.'"

"Xan, don't be ridiculous…" Willow began to protest.

"Don't hold out on the determined gay man!"

"Okay…I am fucking gorgeous and sexy as hell. Satisfied?"

"Immensely," Xander confirmed, his pleased tone indicating just how satisfied he was. "Drink?"

Fifteen minutes later, armed with impressively large cocktails, Willow and Xander selected a prime vantage point which offered a perfect view of the room. They naturally engaged in one of Xander's favourite pastimes, criticising people's outfits.

"You know I should mention more often that the lesbians in this city have excellent dress sense."

"This is Wellington, Xan, not Eketahuna," Willow helpfully pointed out. "Although I have never once heard you mention 'lesbians' and 'excellent dress sense in the same sentence."

Xander shrugged, nonplussed, and took a long sip of his fruity cocktail. "Obviously I need to pay more attention. Oh my good lord, look at Becky Carr's biceps; I swear they're bigger than mine. Girl must be putting some serious hours in at the gym…although I wouldn't know because she goes to City Fitness instead of Bodyworks - traitor."

"I'm glad she doesn't go to Bodyworks," Willow subconsciously flexed her bicep. Even though she couldn't see the muscle, she knew it wasn't anywhere near the size of the woman whom they were looking at. "I'd spent all my time comparing."

"You wouldn't want your biceps to be that big, Will. On Becky it's kinda hot, you'd just look freaky."

Willow responded with a slight giggle. "You know, it is hot…really hot."

"Well, go over there and talk to her then!" Xander urged.

"Can't," Willow shook her head. "We may have had a little dalliance when her biceps were a little less defined."

Xander frowned. "May have?"

"Yeah, I can't quite remember what happened, but the next night at Imerst she was following me around like we were dating or something. So I must have at least snogged her, although knowing me, it wouldn't have stopped at a snog. Suffice to say, I was rather unkind when I told her that there was nothing going on between us."

"Okaaaay," Xander said with a low whistle. He continued to scan the room to find the next likely candidate.

"Oooh, Sarah Schute?"

"Bathroom at Imerst," Willow replied nonchalantly.

"Megan Page?"

"Alleyway behind Imerst."

Xander hummed for a bit. "Hmm, Eleanor…the blonde over there whose last name I can't remember?"

"Broom cupboard at Imerst."

"Eleanor's best friend…what's her name…"

Willow looked appropriately sheepish. "Her name is Brooke…and no, broom cupboard at Imerst…at the same time as Eleanor."

"Will!" Xander finally grew exasperated with the redhead's replies. "You're going to have to go crawling back to at least one of these women and convince her that you've changed. You can't just rule out all of them because you've slept with them at one stage or another!"

"Oh my god!" a voice from just over Willow's shoulder interrupted Xander before he could berate Willow further. They both turned to see a tall, curvaceous woman with a dark bob, not unlike a much better looking version of Xander's wig. "Megan said you were here but I wouldn't believe her until I saw you for myself."

"Lucy, hi," Willow said warmly. She immediately recognised the other woman from the local scene. However for the life of her she couldn't remember Lucy's last name. She had spoken to her perhaps half a dozen times, never for any length of time and usually as part of a group.

"We haven't seen you at Imerst for ages…or anywhere for that matter," Lucy declared. "Is it rude of me to say things have been a lot less exciting without you around?"

Willow smiled at the genuinely sincere tone in Lucy's voice. "It's not rude at all. To tell the truth, I've been taking a break from all of that…maybe a permanent break."

"Imerst is definitely overrated," Lucy agreed. "And the opportunity for proper conversation is sadly lacking."

"I know, I was just thinking that I don't even know your last name," Willow admitted. "I'm terribly sorry."

Lucy waved off her apology. "No worries. It's Cook. I just hope you don't forget it next time we meet."

"I most definitely won't," Willow replied with a grin.

"Well, isn't this nice!" Xander interjected. "Why don't you two go and shake your booties on the dance floor?"

"Xander, the DJ hasn't started yet. It's just ambient music," Willow pointed out.

"Might I see you out on the dance floor when the DJ actually starts playing?" Lucy asked in a shy, hopeful voice.

Willow took a sip of her drink and nodded. "Yeah, most definitely."

"Great. No excuse me while I go and put a stop to all those rumours about you not being around lately because you were in Los Angeles starring in music videos." Lucy brushed her lightly on the back of her hand and flashed a quick grin.

Willow watched her walk away, hips swaying gently as she walked. She unconsciously licked her lips. When Lucy disappeared into the crowd, she had to drain the rest of her cocktail to quench her sudden thirst.

"Do you think the DJ will start playing if I go over and ask her?" Willow asked Xander.

She looked in the direction of the turntables but they were disappointingly vacant. Tapping her toes impatiently, she scanned the room in search of the missing DJ. However, it wasn't the DJ her roving eyes found, but rather a certain blonde standing near the front of the room.

"Fuck me, Xander," Willow whispered.

"In a heartbeat, Will," Xander replied with a grin. "But you're forgetting I'm as gay as you are. I've never had taco and you've never had sausage. It just isn't meant to be."

"Xander!" Willow growled as she grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him several steps backwards. "Stop being a complete moron and look over there behind you, a few metres to the right of the speakers."

Xander tried to be discreet but he was hopelessly inept. He turned fully and stared in the direction Willow had mentioned. He narrowed his eyes and moved side to side, searching for a familiar sight before he finally realised that he was looking at Willow's Achilles heel - one other than Tara Maclay herself. Willow had to grab him and spin him around before he embarrassed her altogether.

"What a fortuitous turn of events!" Xander remarked brightly, sipping his cocktail noisily. "You can bump n' grind with hot Lucy on the dance floor in front of the blonde and prove you're over her…once and for all!"

"Yeah, great idea, Xander," Willow replied in a less than excited tone.

* * *

As Tara polished off the last few sips of her cocktail with relish, she had to admit to herself that the night was turning out to be reasonably pleasant. It had been Grace's idea of course. Neither of them knew many local lesbians, Tara because her circle had been extremely limited while she was with Audrey and Grace because she was still relatively new in town.

The night was pleasant, until Tara caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. Although he wore make-up, a wig and a dress, Tara immediately recognised Willow's best friend, Xander. She would have laughed at his audacity in turning up for a women-only event if she hadn't known that where Xander was, Willow wouldn't be far away. Sure enough, she craned her head slightly

Tara looked away, feeling a mixture of guilt and excitement coursing through her veins. Seeing Willow again, as always, was a pleasurable experience in itself. She risked another glance and watched as Willow engaged in an animated conversation with her friend. Wearing a dashing three-piece suit, the redhead looked as stunning as ever. Tara found herself wanting to cross the room so she could grab her by the adorable little bow tie she wore and pull her into a kiss.

Her guilt however, made her turn away moments later. She had intended to call Willow after the awkward situation at her book signing. Claire's comments had obviously embarrassed her. Her own accusations had been nothing short of unfounded. Willow had deserved an apology. Yet she had not been able to bring herself to call. She had gone as far as picking up her cell phone and finding Willow's number. However her finger had remained hovering over the 'talk' button for several minutes. Eventually, she realised that she was never going to be able to bring herself to do it.

Tara sighed and looked back towards Willow. She thought for a moment that the redhead had seen her, but if she had, her head turned much too quickly and she resumed talking with Xander. Willow tilted back her head and laughed at some comment from her friend. Tara couldn't hear her from across the room but she imagined that the sound was delightful. If only it had been in response to a comment she had made. Willow leaned across and touched Xander's arm. She felt the hairs on her own arm tingle in response. Subconsciously, she brushed her fingers against her skin.

"You're in love with her aren't you?" Grace commented quietly.

Tara didn't hear her girlfriend. She was so wrapped up in her examination of Willow from afar. Someone else, a young woman Tara didn't know, joined Willow and Xander and began talking to them. She was pretty, without a doubt. The resulting rush of anger to her head surprised Tara. It didn't take her long to realise that she was jealous of the girl's ability to talk freely with Willow. Although Tara could physically cross the room and talk to Willow, she was mentally incapable of taking a single step. The embarrassment she had caused Willow and the fact that she had not called to apologise, made it next to impossible.

"Tara," Grace spoke louder this time, almost directly into Tara's ear.

"Huh?" Tara finally and reluctantly dragged her gaze away from Willow as she realised Grace was talking to her.

"Can you stop looking at the redhead for two seconds?" Grace asked firmly.

"I w-wasn't…" Tara began.

Grace interrupted her by taking her elbow gently. "I asked you whether you were in love with her, but I think I already answered the question for myself."

Tara shook her head stubbornly. "I already told you…there's nothing…I am not in love with Willow Rosenberg."

"So you said," Grace replied with a slight sigh. "But since you laid eyes on her, you've hardly been able to look anywhere else. There was this little smile on your face."

Tara touched her lips. She hadn't been smiling – had she?

Grace turned away for a moment and drew in a breath. When she faced Tara once again, there were unshed tears shining in her eyes. Tara's heart sank like a stone with the realisation that she was directly responsible for that pain. All the while she had been trying to convince herself that she loved Grace, Grace had been falling deeper and deeper in love with her. The unfairness of what she had done, hit her like a ton of bricks. She felt corresponding tears in her own eyes.

"G-Grace…"

"Don't." Grace silenced her with a gentle shake of her head. She discreetly wiped her eyes. "Tara, sweetie, I never told you how much I loved you…because a part of me knew that when I said it, you wouldn't be able to say it in return. As long as I didn't say it, then I didn't have to put you in that position. I could continue to fool myself.

"We should go home and talk about this," Tara said quietly, aware of the public nature of what should have been a very private discussion.

Grace shook her head again. "There's nothing to talk about, Tara. I'm going to go home and cry for a bit…and in a week or two, I'll be able to hold my head up again. Meanwhile you are going to go and talk to that redhead with whom supposedly nothing happened."

"I'm so sorry for lying," Tara whispered, feeling her cheeks colour with shame.

"I have to say that I'm crushed that you lied to me." Grace sniffed loudly. "But I can't bring myself to be angry at you. Just promise me you'll stop lying to yourself."

Tara managed a weak nod and allowed Grace to gently enfold her into a warm embrace. She hugged the brunette tightly, wondering how it was humanly possible for one person to be so uncommonly good and understanding. It was a painful way to live life. That fact was made evident by the manner in which Grace's shoulders shook with silent tears. Tara squeezed tightly, Grace returned the squeeze for several moments and then suddenly disengaged from the hug altogether. Without a further word, she placed a light kiss on Tara's cheek and walked quickly away.

Grace kept her head down as she walked out and didn't even notice that the redhead and her friend had already left. Standing alone, Tara did notice. She spent several increasingly depressing minutes looking for Willow and Xander before admitting that the redhead had left as well. Hardly feeling like staying and enjoying the ball, Tara too made her exit.

* * *

Willow watched with a heart-wrenching pang as Tara and Grace embraced. The brunette folded her body against Tara's in the manner in which she wished she could. She could only stare for a second before she felt the warning signs, a slight burning of the eyes, her breath caught in her throat. She turned and buried her face in Xander's chest before the tears fell.

"Xan, please take me home now," she whispered.

Xander didn't need to be asked twice. Wordlessly, he swept her out of the venue and held her upright until they made it out of the building and into a waiting cab. He gave the taxi driver Willow's address and settled back into the seat, letting the redhead burrow into his side. Although he expected a storm of tears, she remained silent. Her emotionless face stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.

The tears were held at bay until Willow stepped over the threshold of her apartment. At which point she hiccupped loudly and began to sob.

"Hey, hey, Will," Xander grabbed her by the shoulders as she stumbled. With a slightly grunt of effort, he swept her off her feet and up into his arms. "Let's get you into bed."

He carried her into her room and set her gently down on the corner of her bed. While she continued to cry, he handed her a box of tissues that he found on her bedside table and set about untying her shoes.

"This…is…ridiculous," Willow said between hiccups. She held her breath for a moment and was able to continue. "I can't even be in the same room as her without turning into a blubbering idiot. When did I become so pathetic?"

"The moment you fell in love with her," Xander explained patiently as he tossed one shoe over his shoulder and started on the second.

Willow stared down at him with a tired expression on her tear-streaked face, just watching him as he tugged the remaining shoe from her foot. She couldn't even be bothered arguing with him, even though her silence could have been interpreted as acquiescence. Wearily, she shrugged her shoulders out of her jacket and started on the buttons of her waistcoat. She managed one before the tears began falling down her cheeks, obscuring her vision. Before her shaking fingers could undo the second button, Xander batted them aside and did it himself. He pulled the waistcoat from her shoulders. The bow tie followed and then her shirt until she was wearing just a satin chemise.

Rather than suffer the indignity of Xander removing her trousers, Willow flopped onto her back and lifted her butt in the air so she could wriggle herself out of them.

"Try not to get too excited," she commented as she crawled across the bed in her underwear. She fumbled for the covers and burrowed beneath them like a little mole.

"The sight of your firm little arse would be enough to send any lesbian into a sapphic frenzy," Xander said wryly as he kicked his high heels off and hopped on the bed next to her. "Thankfully I'm not a lesbian."

"Lesbians suck," Willow whispered, starting off another fresh bout of tears.

"What are you going to do now?" Xander asked softly, handing her yet another tissue.

Willow sniffed in a most unladylike fashion and shook her head. "Don't worry about me."

"I'm your best friend, worrying about you is my job.

Willow snuggled against Xander's side. "You're worried that this is one push too many and come tomorrow, I'm going to be straight back to my old self, drunk and surrounded by half-naked women at Imerst. Does that about sum it up?"

Xander shrugged and placed his arm around Willow's shoulders, hugging her tightly. "Well, I was going to say drunk, high and straddling a completely naked woman…but close enough."

"Tempting," Willow almost broke into a smile. "Especially the naked woman part….but no. I may have become a blubbering idiot but I'm not going back to being an alcoholic slapper."

He let out a small sigh. "You were never an alcoholic slapper, Will."

"You're too nice, Xan," Willow yawned, all her crying had sapped her energy. "I fit the very definition of an alcoholic slapper. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was in my job description."

"So…what are you going to do, Will?" Xander repeated.

"I'm going to grow up," Willow replied in a sleepy voice. "And I'm going to tell myself that just because Tara doesn't want me, that doesn't mean that there isn't another gorgeous young woman who will make me extremely happy somewhere out there."

Xander nodded in agreement. "Someone even more gorgeous than Tara."

"Hey, I said gorgeous…not gorgeouser," Willow pointed out. "No one is as gorgeous as Tara."

"Will?" Xander asked quietly.

"Yeah?" Willow tried to stifle a yawn and failed. She burrowed into the warmth of Xander's side and closed her eyes.

"What do grownups do?"

"I dunno," Willow mumbled. "But I guess I'll find out tomorrow."


	16. And the Stars are Shining Bright

**~ Chapter Sixteen~**

**And the stars are shining bright **

It took Willow almost a minute to realise that the horrible screeching noise in her ears wasn't a part of her dream, but rather her alarm going off. She finally rolled over and saw 7.00am staring back at her. With a groan she fumbled for the off button. This relatively simple task was made more difficult by the fact that it was the first time she had set an alarm clock in years.

As she sat up in bed, still half-asleep, Willow vaguely remembered a time when waking early had been almost effortless. Too many years had been spent rolling out of bed after lunch or only just going to bed at lunch. She gave herself another minute to adjust to the strange smell of morning before coaxing her uncooperative legs over the side of the bed.

It took her another five minutes, sitting on the side of her bed, to decide if she really wanted to go through with her plan. Willow glanced back over her shoulder at the inviting warmth of her bed and contemplated burrowing back under the covers once again. The temptation was so strong, that eventually she had to stand up and make a beeline for the shower.

Half an hour later, snug in her robe with her wet hair falling down around her shoulders and a cup of coffee in her hands, Willow felt immensely better. Despite an amount of dread at what she knew was to come, there was also a sense of anticipation. The part of her that had worked so hard to transform her life, told her that she was making the right decision. The nagging little voice telling her to go back to bed and hide, was banished to a small corner of her mind as she ventured to the very back of her walk in wardrobe to retrieve something she had never worn.

Willow laid the suit, still snug in its protective zip lock bag, down on her bed. She drained the last of her coffee as she stared down at it. The suit was Zambesi of course. It had been an impulse buy last winter. When she tried the smart jacket and pants on, it had instantly made her feel different, important in a way. However, until now, she had never had the occasion or the inclination to wear it.

She set her empty coffee cup down and unzipped the bag. "Well, here goes nothing."

* * *

"Fourteenth floor," the elevator chimed sweetly as its doors slid smoothly open.

With a deep breath, Willow stepped out and into the spacious lobby beyond. She desperately wanted to wipe her sweaty palms on something but had to settle for clutching the straps of her Fendi bag in a white knuckled grip. Suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, she panicked and retreated back into the elevator before the doors could close. She hurriedly stabbed her finger on the button that would take her back to the ground floor.

"Going down," the voice said as the elevator began to move soundlessly.

Willow let out a sigh of relief and collapsed back against the cool walls of the elevator, closing her eyes as she reflected on her narrow escape. However, the relief quickly faded to be replaced by a flood of regret and shame. She had come this far, and she was going to waste her effort because she couldn't bring herself to take the last few steps. The rear wall of the elevator was mirrored and she turned to stare at herself. With her hair swept back, wearing her Zambesi suit, Willow couldn't quite recognise herself. It took her a few moments to realise the person she was seeing instead. Although she had not looked at photos for some time, she instantly thought of her mother. Sheila Rosenberg wasn't exactly a person who occupied much of Willow's thought time. However, being forced to face her in her own reflection brought her memories flooding back.

"Ground floor," chimed the annoyingly sweet electronic voice.

She turned to face the opening doors, but instead of exiting the lift, Willow remained standing in one corner. A petite blonde woman was staring at her as she waited to enter.

"This is the ground floor, are you getting out?" she asked with a frown.

"Ah no," Willow shook her head. "I'm going back up."

The blonde shrugged and stepped into the elevator. "What floor?"

"Fourteen please," Willow replied. She forced herself to stand up straight and at least look confident, even if she didn't feel it on the inside.

"Same floor as me." Her elevator companion grinned. "Ah-huh! It makes sense now. The flustered expression, general spazzy behaviour - you've got a job interview!"

"Something like that," Willow replied politely. She wasn't sure she wanted to give any further information away, even though the perky blonde seemed perfectly normal.

"Well, don't worry so much, it's a great company to work for," she offered helpfully. "And if it's not too rude of me to say, you look really fabulous

Willow smiled her thanks. However, she already knew she looked particularly smart and quite possibly stunningly gorgeous. It was how she felt on the inside that was another matter altogether. At any moment she felt she might throw up all over the stylish shoes of her companion.

"Fourteenth floor," the elevator chimed again.

The door swung open and the blonde waved her hand, indicating for Willow to exit first. Willow paused, unable to bring herself to take that first step. Her hesitation caused the doors to begin to slide shut once again. However, before they could close, the blonde thrust her arm between them.

She cast a pointed look in Willow's direction. "Out you get. I don't really fancy a ride all the way down again."

"You can get out, I might just stay in here," Willow said, shrinking backwards rather than walking forward.

"I'm not leaving this elevator before you, and I really do want to get to work…so go on, out!"

Beneath the blonde's watchful gaze, Willow stepped out of the elevator. Her 'personal motivator' followed just behind her, making sure she didn't make a last second dive back into the safety of the grey box. The door slide shut and her escape route was gone.

"See that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Willow turned with a slight smile. "Sorry, I'm not normally such a dummy."

The blonde cocked her head to one side and grinned. "No, I've only just met you, and to me you look both smart and confident – which is why you're going to march in there and not look back."

"Thanks, I will," Willow promised.

"Well, best of luck then. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you, and if not-" The blonde handed her a business card. "-call me sometime."

Willow accepted the card with a warm smile. "Thanks." Willow glanced down at the card to get her name and she was slightly taken aback for a moment by the rather odd name. "Buffy Summers?"

Unconcerned by the fact that the nervous redhead obviously thought her name was weird, Buffy nodded and smiled.

Willow smiled and offered her own name. "I'm Willow."

"Willow…cute," Buffy replied with a wink. "See you round…and I don't want to hear that you got back in that elevator!"

With a nod of reassurance, Willow confirmed that she wouldn't. She then watched Buffy walk in the opposite direction for a moment before the petite blonde disappeared through a nearby door. As she glanced down at Buffy Summers' business card, she wondered whether the blonde was just being friendly or there was an ulterior motive underlying the 'call me' invitation. Willow realised her gaydar was failing. It wasn't a good omen.

Squaring her shoulders, Willow strode up to the desk. While she waited to be greeted, she read the receptionist's nameplate, 'Candice Mathys.' Candice, who was absolutely gorgeous and looked as though she had barely left high school, glanced up as Willow cleared her throat. She looked as though she had swallowed a lemon. "Can I help you?" the dark-haired receptionist asked. Her tone matched her expression perfectly. She certainly didn't give off a helpful vibe.

Willow forced herself to keep her expression neutral and business-like, but the corresponding expression on Candice's face left her with her own sour taste in her mouth. "Yes, I would like to see Mr Rosenberg please," Willow asked. Even as she asked the question, she realised that she ought to have called and made an appointment. He was more than likely a busy man.

Candice confirmed her fears almost immediately. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but my name is..."

"You won't be able to see Mr Rosenberg without an appointment. I hope you realise that?"

"Yes, well, no...I mean I know I was supposed to make one. If you don't mind, could you ring his secretary and see if he has any time this morning?" Willow asked – remaining friendly and polite was becoming increasingly difficult in the face of such hostility.

She appeared that she did mind – a lot. "I'll try."

"Thank you so much," Willow couldn't help but allow a little snark to creep into her voice. "Could you tell him that..." the phone rang and Candice immediately answered it, silencing Willow by holding up her hand. She then gave a little wave toward a red leather couch that sat in the corner of the reception area.

With a brief nod, Willow sat on the leather couch as indicated. She spent a few minutes glancing around at the rather austere and spartan interior of the reception area. Although she had not set foot in the building for some time, she remembered being a lot less stylish. There had been photos covering the wall - photos of building projects, signed photos of famous rugby players, photos of family and friends. In fact, it had looked a lot like a grandmother's living room. That was all gone – replaced by perfectly trimmed plants, expensive art by well-known New Zealand artists and the hard leather couch upon which she sat.

Candice finished her phone call and she waited for her to make a call to the secretary as she had promised. However, Willow caught the receptionist staring at her over the top of her monitor before she quickly looked away when spotted. With an annoyed sigh, Willow realised that she wasn't going to call anyone at all. She was waiting for her to give up and leave. Regardless of how much Willow had changed over the past few months, she wasn't about to let a baby receptionist on a power trip get the better of her. She withdrew her wallet from her bag and marched back up to the desk.

"Can I help you?" Candice asked in a challenging tone. She was prepared to do battle.

"Yes," Willow replied, keeping her tone neutral and amiable. "Can you tell me the name of this company?"

"Excuse me, but what are you doing here if you don't even know the name of this company?" Candice fired back in a condescending manner.

"I know the name of this company," Willow said. "I was asking if you did."

Candice pouted. "Absolutely ridiculous. I work here. It's RB Dynamics."

"And what does the 'RB' stand for?" Willow continued, keeping her tone neutral.

"Rosenberg Brothers," Candice replied promptly. "After the company founders - Ira and Joseph Rosenberg."

Willow retrieved her driver's license from within her wallet and placed it on the desk in front of the receptionist. She did amazingly well to keep the smug smile from her face.

With a bored expression, Candice picked it up and read it. Her jaw dropped as soon as she read the name. She handed the license back to Willow with a momentarily sheepish expression on her face. She wiped it quickly and replaced it with a professional air of calm. It was the expression she ought to have worn all along.

"I'll call Mr Rosenberg's secretary now, if you'd just like to take a seat, Ms Rosenberg."

"Thank you, Candice," Willow replied graciously.

She returned to the leather couch and for the first time since she had walked in the building, felt her apprehension returning.

"Excuse me, Ms Rosenberg," Candice called from the desk less than a minute later. "Mr Rosenberg can see you straight away."

Willow wiped her palms on her pants again and stood. She strode back to the desk, relieved to find that the receptionist's attitude had changed from hostile to efficient.

"I'm terribly sorry for being rude," Candice looked suitably ashamed of herself. "It's just that I keep getting told that people need appointments."

"No worries," Willow replied, managing a sincere smile. Reflecting again that Candice really was rather attractive. "I know I should have called."

"Yes, you should have," Candice replied, adding a hint of playful humour to her voice. "His office is just through the door at the very end of the corridor."

Candice gave her a discreet wink as she passed. For a few seconds, Willow was able to banish her nervousness by imaging a bout of office sex up against the photocopier. Given that she had never had job in her life, photocopier sex was an activity she had yet to experience.

The pleasant moment lasted only until she reached the door to her uncle's office. It was already open. Drawing in a breath, Willow knocked lightly on the door frame before walking in with her head held high. There was a man leaning against the desk. He had a slender frame, but his shirt bulged out slightly to hint at a small spare tyre around his waist. The hair on his head was almost completely gone save for dark tufts behind each of his ears. As soon as he laid eyes on Willow, a broad smile crossed his pink cheeked face.

"Sweet heavens above!" he said

"I didn't quite believe it when I heard you were here but here you are. Are you going to let me give you a hug or is that not something you young people do these days?"

Willow didn't say anything. She simply took several steps forward and allowed her uncle to wrap his slender but welcoming arms around her. For a few glorious moments she closed her eyes and imagined that she was in her Dad's arms. She couldn't allow the moment to last long. As soon as her eyes started to burn, she drew back. Her uncle could never replace her father. She disentangled herself gently from his embrace but allowed him to remain holding on to her elbow.

"I haven't seen you for far too long, Willow," he admonished her slightly. "Sarah and I would have loved you to have been at our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I would have called to check the invitation arrived, but I didn't have your number. I know, it's a terrible excuse…"

"It arrived," Willow interrupted. It was hardly Joseph's fault that she had never bothered to give him her cell number. "But I didn't…" She remembered that invitation arriving several months earlier. The cover was a photo showing her parents as part of the wedding party. Willow had crumpled it in her fist without even bothering to read it. "You wouldn't have wanted me there. I was too self-absorbed to care about anyone but myself."

Joseph swallowed awkwardly. He had no children of his own so he was completely unaccustomed to dealing with such admissions. Research and development and multi-million dollar projects were what he understood. However, even he could acknowledge the significance of having his niece standing in front of him.

Willow was fully aware that she was making him slightly uncomfortable. Instead of continue to list her failings over the past few years; she got to the real reason behind her visit. "When I dropped out of university after Mum's death, you said I should come to work for the company…just as a means to keep myself occupied more than anything. I threw that offer back in your face as savagely as I could. I am so sorry for being an ungrateful bitch."

"Willow…you were hurting…" Joseph began.

She shook her head firmly. "Please don't make excuses for me. I've made more than enough for myself. There is something else you can do for me."

"Anything…of course."

Willow drew in a deep breath and held her chin high. "I know it's been a while, and I really don't deserve it, but…does that offer of a job still stand?"

"Of course it does!" Joseph replied quickly, his bright eyes shining. "Do you have any ideas as to what you would like to do?"

"I really don't care," Willow replied. "I just want to find somewhere where I will be useful."

"Oh, Willow," her uncle said gently as he drew her into another warm hug. "You've already been useful just by walking in my door."

It took Willow a while to realise what the fuzzy feeling in her stomach was. Eventually she knew it was the simple joy of being with family once again.

* * *

Faith tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the crossing light to turn green. She risked a glance in both directions in the hope that she could sneak across the road. However just as she stepped off the curb, a bicycle courier whizzed past and would have collided with her had she not leapt backwards. Although she was saved from being knocked flat, she succeeded in elbowing another pedestrian also waiting to cross the road.

"I'm so sorry!" Faith apologised as she steadied herself. She quickly saw that the woman had dropped her handbag and she retrieved it before someone else could stand on it. "Here you go…"

As Faith stood with the bag in her outstretched hand, she was able to get her first look at just who she had collided with. She was taken aback somewhat when she saw a familiar face staring back at her. Although Faith had barely had the opportunity to meet Willow Rosenberg in the short but catastrophic time that Tara had been involved with her, she would never forget such a distinctive face.

Willow accepted her handbag with a small smile of thanks. For an awkward moment, neither woman knew exactly what to do. At that point they could have acknowledged they knew each other with merely a hurried goodbye and continued on their separate ways. That opportunity passed as the moment lengthened to the point where one of them had to actually say something.

Before that could happen, they found they were being jostled on all sides by standing directly in the flow of pedestrian traffic. Faith ducked to the edge of the footpath as she waited to cross the road and Willow followed.

"So…lunchtime," Willow said in the absence of better conversation.

"Yeah…lunchtime," Faith agreed. "I'm kinda surprised to see you taking part in the lunchtime office exodus, I'm pretty sure Tara said you didn't work. Um, sorry, that came out badly."

"No, it's okay," Willow replied quickly. "I'll admit, I was a spoilt little brat. Up until last week I had never held down a real job in my life, but now I'm starting out at RB Dynamics."

"Impressive, I think we do their legal work," Faith noted.

"Well, it's a family company so I can't claim I got the job through my stunning academic qualifications or natural talent," Willow admitted. "But it's not like I'm Vice-president. I'm starting from about as close to the bottom as you can get."

Faith couldn't hide her surprised expression. "And how are you finding it?"

"Work is hard work," Willow noted. "It took me a week to get used to dragging myself out of bed early, then the weekend came along and come Monday morning, it was just as hard to get up as it was the first day."

Faith laughed lightly. She had always told herself that if she saw Willow Rosenberg again, she would give her the drubbing she thoroughly deserved. However, she almost found herself enjoying the redhead's honest conversation. "I've been doing this for a while now and trust me, it never gets any easier. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy my job but I'd be lying if I said I'm a box of sunshine on Monday mornings."

Willow nodded knowingly. The awkwardness between them had alleviated somewhat and she was no longer tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for the traffic lights to change. She remembered that Faith was dating her neighbour. "I've seen you in my building a couple of times. How are things with Karl going?"

"Oh, Karl and I broke up a few weeks ago," Faith shrugged and brushed it off with a wave of her hand. "He was a real sweetheart…but just didn't light my fire, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know." Willow bit her lip. She desperately wanted to ask about Tara and wondered whether it was appropriate. It was ridiculous; Tara was the sole reason that she and Faith knew each other in the first place. If she couldn't bring herself to ask after the blonde now, then she never would. "How's Tara?" Willow asked as casually as she could manage. Her effort was futile. The question came out more like a strangled gasp than a proper sentence. "I mean, is she good…doing well…I mean, is she healthy, as in the opposite of sick?" _God, I really need to just stop talking!_

Faith fought the urge to laugh again. She hadn't realised that the redhead was a little goofy. Although she barely knew Willow, her impression had always been of a confident, arrogant young woman who had no trouble saying exactly what she meant. However, here she was, struggling to ask such a mundane question. She studied the redhead's pathetic expression for a moment and much to her surprise, realised that there was a sincere desperation for news about Tara.

There was then the slight difficulty of giving Willow an honest answer. Normally she would respond with 'fine,' or another equally standard response. 'Fine' would have been a lie. Tara was a wreck, every bit as depressed and hopeless as she had been in the weeks following Audrey's death. Faith was perceptive enough to know that it had nothing to do with breaking up with Grace.

_I shouldn't be saying this, not to Willow_, Faith thought, before she plunged headfirst into unknown territory. _I'm going straight to the part of hell reserved for people who are terrible best friends_… "Did you know that she broke up with Grace?"

"She broke up with Grace?" Willow repeatedly dumbly. She let the words sink in, and then shifted to hopeful elation. The elation was allowed to run its course before she brought herself back to earth. Tara and Grace had ended things; it did not mean there was any place for her in Tara's life. "Um, that's a shame."

The traffic lights finally changed and buzzed loudly as a sea of pedestrians began to swarm across the intersection. Conversation was made difficult as Willow and Faith crossed the road in the rush. The jostling continued when they reached the other side, and for a moment Willow thought that Faith had parted ways discreetly. However, a few seconds later she felt a gentle tug on her arm. She turned to see Faith catching up to her.

"Hey…Willow…do you have any plans for lunch?" Faith gently drew her out of the main flow of pedestrian traffic.

"Well, I'd gotten as far as leaving the office in search of something," Willow replied. "Then I bumped into you. So I'm still in the searching phase."

"Do you like bagels?"

"Of course," Willow replied with a nod. "Everyone likes bagels."

That settled it. Ten minutes later, Willow and Faith were perched side by side on a bench in a small, mid city park, surrounded by pigeons and other corporate types out for their lunch break. For a few minutes, all they did was eat. Willow taking slow bites of her salmon and cream cheese and Faith tucking into her roast beef and pickle with great gusto.

Willow had barely eaten half when Faith finished. She turned and looked at the brunette. They had met only once, at Zambesi and then it had only been an exchange of a few sentences. However she did know that Faith was Tara's best friend. Talking to her honestly could only be a good thing.

Faith started talking with her mouth still half full. "I don't know if I should even be talking to you."

"I can go…" Willow began.

"No, that's not what I meant," Faith interrupted, she swallowed her mouthful and washed it down with a sip from her coffee. "My track record when it comes to meddling with Tara's love life has been nothing short of abysmal. Although I had absolutely nothing to do with that first night the two of you met." Faith let out a snort that could have been a laugh. "I did make her go along to your party alone, where she ended up with a black eye because I wasn't there to look out for her. She was too ashamed to even tell me about that for weeks!"

Willow sighed at that particular memory. What a disaster that night had been. First she had thrown herself at Tara like a sex hungry animal, then Kelly had decked Tara in a jealous rage. There were a dozen things she could have done differently to ensure that night had gone better. For starters, she should have barred Kelly from entering her apartment. If she were sober, then she might have been able to talk to Tara instead of grope her.

"That was hardly your fault," Willow commented. "I was a self-absorbed bitch."

"And then some," Faith replied, taking a deep gulp of her coffee. "Anyway, then she manages to get rid of you, which I thought was absolutely fantastic. She started dating someone else, someone I thought would be really good for her, but then she went and dumped her and now she's so fucking miserable that it makes me want to cry just looking at her."

"Tara dumped Grace?" Willow confirmed tentatively. "If she's so miserable about it, then why did she? They seemed like a good couple."

The last admission was rather forced. Although Grace seemed perfectly nice, she had clumsily brought up the article about her being with Claire Larsen in the paper. Just for that, Willow felt justified in feeling a small amount of resentment towards the woman.

Faith sighed wearily, as though she was about to say something that she ought not to. "She's not miserable because she dumped Grace; she barely even made it off first base with Grace. God knows why…but she's miserable because of you."

"Me?" Willow squeaked in reply. "I haven't done anything to her…not recently anyway."

"Well, you did something to her. Now she can't get you out of her head," Faith said, taking another large, rather savage, bite of her bagel. She chewed with intensity for a minute before continuing. "The real question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Regardless of whether she is still thinking about me, I can't just call her and ask her out for coffee," Willow shook her head sadly. It wasn't going to be that easy. She turned to Faith and had a sudden flash of inspiration. "I need you to speak to Tara on my behalf. I can't talk to her. She thinks I'm a player and a liar."

"I think you're a player and a liar too," Faith admitted a little too readily for Willow's liking.

"I was a player and a liar," Willow said firmly. She knew that she had changed, and it was time for other people to realise it as well.

"I'm tempted to quote that old phrase," Faith began. "Leopards don't change their spots. However, I'm prepared to do anything to help my girl…and if it means bringing you back into her life, then that's what I have to do."

She crammed the last piece of her bagel into her mouth. The time it took to chew and swallow the large hunk, gave her time to consider whether she was doing the right thing. Faith drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She turned to regard Willow with a steady gaze. She could tell Willow was fighting to maintain a semblance of dignity, but her excitement was difficult to contain. It was almost disgustingly cute.

"Okay, here's the plan - we just might happen to be going jogging around Oriental Bay this evening, at about 6.30. So if you happen to bump into Tara, would you be inclined towards apologising profusely and asking her if you can start over?"

Willow finally let out the giddy breath she had been holding. "Yes! Of course, the apologising will be profuse…and I may even grovel. But seriously, she's going to run in the opposite direction as soon as she sees me."

"I can't make any guarantees, Red. However I reckon she wants to see you just as badly as you want to see her."

Although she had difficulty controlling her wildly fluctuating heart palpitations, Willow mustered a confident nod in reply. She was in no doubt that this would be her final chance with Tara and she was determined to make the most of it.

Faith was apparently thinking the same thing. "And Willow…if you screw this up or so much as cause one tiny little tear to fall down Tara's cheek because of something you've done, then I will kick the crap out of your scrawny little arse."

Examining the stern expression on Faith's face, Willow was in doubt as to who would come off better in a fight between herself and the swarthy brunette. She did her best to put a reassuring smile on her face as she nodded in agreement.

"What about tears of joy?" she asked tentatively.

"Whoa, getting way too far ahead of yourself there, Red," Faith shook her head. "Just start with civilised conversation…and no sex on the first date…or the second...or better yet, no sex for a month."

Willow grinned. "Now you're getting too far ahead of yourself. Conversation is a good place to start. If I can string two sentences together and remain charming, then I will be happy.

"This may seem like a weird question, but what happened to you?" Faith asked as she brushed her suit off, ready to return to work. "Judging by everything you did to Tara, I thought you were the devil incarnate. Yet here you are and you seem nice…almost normal."

As she deftly tossed her paper bag so it landed in a nearby rubbish bin, Willow already knew the easy answer. Sparkling blue eyes consumed her vision and she could almost feel soft, milky white skin beneath the pads of her fingers. The small hope of experiencing that once again was what continued to motivate her.

She swung her bag over her shoulder and looked evenly at Faith for a moment before replying simply, "Tara happened."


	17. A Wild Dissolving Bliss

**~ Chapter 17~**

**A Wild Dissolving Bliss**

Stranger things had happened to her over the past month, but Willow knew that finding a job that she enjoyed was one of the more unexpected outcomes of her attempted reinvention. While it wasn't exactly a high powered job, Willow had done virtually nothing for so long that she felt useful just sitting at her desk playing with her multi-coloured Post-it notes.

Another email popped up in her inbox and she sighed with relief upon seeing it was the one she had been waiting on for the past hour - the latest advertisement for one of RB Dynamics' new products. She spent a few minutes checking that the designer had created everything to specification before forwarding it on to the Dominion Post for inclusion in the newspaper's Wednesday edition.

She swivelled in her chair to face Buffy Summers who was sitting on the other side of the room. Their brief meeting in the elevator had set the tone for their relationship so far. Willow was new; Buffy was the experienced professional who was showing her the ropes – with a hefty dose of teasing along the way. Still, Willow enjoyed the blonde's company – even if she couldn't quite figure her out. On a personal level, they hadn't moved past swapping basic and trivial information. For her part, Willow wasn't prepared to launch into a brief history of her misspent youth to someone she had to see every day. Admitting that she was a serial party girl who specialised in one-night stands wasn't high on her list of introductions.

"Dom Post ad has gone," Willow announced with an air of satisfaction

Buffy responded with a cat-like stretch and an accompanying yawn as she leant back in her chair. She then swivelled around to flash a big smile in Willow's direction.

"I would tell you to go home early for a job well done, but it's hardly early. It's nearly five-thirty," Buffy commented with a quick glance up at the large clock on the wall.

The blonde eased herself out of her chair and walked over to Willow's desk, inviting herself to sit delicately on the corner. "Feel like getting a drink tonight? A few of us usually frequent St John's on the waterfront to celebrate the end of another Monday, and it also helps to make Tuesday a little easier. Um, or worse, depending on how much you drink."

"Waterfront…sounds nice…" Willow paused as the mention of 'waterfront' reminded her of something else she already had planned that evening – something far more important than drinks with work colleagues." Shit, shit, shit. Sorry Buffy, but I'm late for...something."

Willow leapt out of her chair and began stuffing various items back into her bag or in other appropriate places. Her iPhone and a sweater went into the bag, a half eaten muesli bar was shoved in her mouth and her sandwich crusts went in the bin. She was also mentally calculating how long it would take her to get home, change into her running gear and hit the pavement in time for her 6.30pm 'rendezvous.'

In the midst of this whirlwind a rather bemused Buffy was perched on Willow's desk watching the flurry of activity around her. The blonde sat quietly, until Willow finally stopped moving and stood still in the middle of the room. For a few moments, she furrowed her brow as though trying to run through a mental checklist in her mind.

"You totally have a hot date." Buffy announced with a broad grin.

"What?" Willow asked with her mouth half full. "Who has a hot date? You do?"

"Don't play ignorant with me, Ms Rosenberg," Buffy said as she narrowed her eyes in Willow's direction. "You're displaying all the classic signs of being late for a date."

Shaking her head quickly, Willow refuted any suggestions of a 'date.' For once, she wasn't lying. "No, no hot date. I'm just late for my run."

"You're running late for a run?" Buffy asked sceptically. "Can't you run at anytime?"

"It's a group thing; I have to meet other people," Willow explained. She didn't feel guilty as it was hardly stretching the truth.

"Okay, I suppose you're off the hook…but we also drink Fridays. I don't know whether you would be interested or not, but Grant from Finance was asking about you when I was at the water cooler this morning."

With it closed and bulging slightly, Willow swung her bag over her shoulder and gave Buffy a level stare. "You had a cooler conversation about me? With Grant?"

Buffy laughed at the look on Willow's face. "You've got something against accountants?"

_No, not accountants…just men in general_, Willow thought. She wasn't about to come out to Buffy when she was in such a hurry. There would no doubt be the initial reaction of shock and then the flurry of questions about what it was like to sleep with a girl and so on. Willow didn't have time for that conversation. It could be a Tuesday conversation.

"Um, we can talk about this tomorrow. I promise?" Willow suggested. "See you."

"Yeah, although you're not getting off that lightly. Enjoy your run."

_Oh god_, Willow thought as she grinned and left her office. _How am I supposed to enjoy my run when I'm only running for the purpose of bumping into Tara? _Willow slipped into the silence of the lift. Her busy afternoon and sudden panic had kept her fears at bay. However, now as she had time to think alone, they all came flooding back. The sudden twisting of her gut made her feel less like running and more like throwing up.

* * *

Tara breathed the sigh of relief that she always felt upon entering her apartment. Although it was on the small side, decidedly unfashionable and in need of a decent spring clean, it was home. She hadn't exactly had a stressful day – just a string of errands around town and a few hours of research at the university library for her new book. In fact, to most people it would have been a relaxing day. Tara, however, had felt her energy levels flagging for some time. Even such a simple day out left her tired and longing to curl up and go to sleep.

She tossed her bag on the floor and gratefully sank into her worn, comfy couch with a dramatic sigh. Allowing her eyes to close, she felt as though she could quite easily drift off into a deep sleep. There were a dozen things she could have done instead, dirty dishes in the sink, several loads of washing, watered her plants, or cooked herself some dinner. Everything was entirely unappealing. Tara was in the process of dragging a rug down over her legs when her peace was not only disturbed but shattered by Faith's arrival. Her best friend crashed through the door without knocking, causing Tara to jerk up with a sudden start. The next thing she saw was her smelly running shoes flying towards her face. She managed to put up a hand to deflect them just before they hit her square on the nose. They landed on her stomach instead.

"You've got one minute to get your gear on, we're going for a run," Faith announced without giving Tara any say in the matter.

It was then that Tara had a chance to look at Faith and realised that she was already fully kitted out for a run, complete with a rather naff looking sweatband around her head.

Tara groaned and tossed her shoes onto the ground. "I'm really not in the mood for pounding the pavement. Tomorrow okay?"

She listened to the sound of Faith's feet moving across the floorboards, coming towards her. A moment later, she felt herself being rudely tugged from her safe, secure position on the couch. Her face was twisted into an expression of disgruntled annoyance as she sat and watched Faith collect her shoes.

"Come on," Faith said as she dangled the shoes in front of her. "Grab your Nikes and go get ready."

"Why are you being so persistent?" Tara asked suspiciously. "Hang on a minute - are you trying to tell me I've put on weight?"

"Don't be fucking ridiculous. It's got nothing to do with your weight and everything to do with the fact that you're a moody, self-absorbed recluse. Come running with me, get the endorphins pumping a bit and get out of your slump!"

"I feel like I'm being scolded."

"You are being scolded!" Faith growled. "Now hurry up."

* * *

It took Tara slightly longer than the requested minute to get herself ready, but ten minutes later both she and Faith were out in the fresh air jogging around the gorgeous Wellington waterfront. The subsequent ten minutes were absolute hell for Tara. She had not even looked at her running shoes in months and it was plainly evident in her complete lack of fitness. The wheezing sounds she was emitting were positively terrifying. At any moment she thought she might collapse or even have a heart attack.

The near-death experience eventually passed and Tara found she was settling into a familiar rhythm. She less resembled a spastic monkey and more someone who was enjoying finding their stride. The wheezing became controlled breathing.

"You alright, T?"

"I am now," Tara found herself able to talk easily. If she had tried to answer Faith's question a few minutes earlier, her friend would have heard nothing but strangled gasps. "Hey, thanks for this...getting me out of the house. I really needed it."

"No worries. It's self-serving really. You were getting to be kind of a drag to be around. I'm just trying to make you more fun for my sake."

"Gee, thanks," Tara replied sarcastically.

Faith smiled. Of course, Tara had no idea of the extent of her plans to make her 'more fun.' A part of her knew that bringing Willow back into Tara's life was one of the only things she could do that would actually work. Well, it would either work or be a complete disaster that made things even worse.

Thinking about her plan, Faith kept glancing back over her shoulder looking for Willow. She hoped Tara didn't notice the little glances and wonder what the hell she was doing. Just when she was about to think that the redhead would be either too late or not show at all, she saw a figure in the distance that could very well be her. With the pace that she and Tara were keeping, it would be several minutes before Willow could catch them. Being the impatient individual that she was, Faith didn't want to wait that long.

"Ouch! Damn!" Faith gasped and pulled to a swift halt. She hopped over to a nearby bench and sat down heavily. She pretended to probe gently at her right ankle.

"Are you okay?" Tara stopped running immediately and joined her.

"Nothing too bad, I just rolled my bad ankle. The one I hurt at indoor soccer last year," Faith explained.

"I told you to stay off it for longer than you did," Tara growled, starting to bend down so she could examine it.

Faith batted her hand away. "Just because I'm a moron doesn't mean you have to abandon your run. Go on, I'll just wait here until you come back. Quickly, before you lose your momentum altogether."

Tara didn't look so sure. "I can't just leave you sitting here!"

"Hey," Faith nodded towards a rather strapping young man running past them wearing no shirt. "I'll be fine, plenty of eye candy."

"Yeah, I'll probably come back and you'll have three phone numbers and one marriage proposal," Tara commented grudgingly.

"Go!" Faith urged Tara on. She had just seen that Willow was about to catch up to them.

With a slight shrug, Tara continued her run, leaving Faith sitting on the bench with a rather broad smirk on her face. Less than half a minute later, Willow jogged up to the bench where she was sitting.

"That was smooth."

"Well you better be just as smooth, Red," Faith warned her. "This is your last chance. Don't fuck it up. If she comes back to me with tears in her eyes, there will be unpleasant consequences for you."

"No tears, gotcha."

If Willow wasn't nervous before, the threat of having to answer to Faith definitely made her nervous. With a last nod towards Tara's best friend, she started out after her.

It took her several minutes to catch up to the blonde. On one hand, Tara was an excellent runner and on the other, Willow did get a little distracted staring at her arse to the point where she almost forgot to move her legs.

Willow dropped into step just behind Tara, maintaining her distance as she tried to figure out her next move. Should she breeze past Tara and hope that the blonde would see her and call out? That move was quickly tossed aside. It was more likely that Tara would think she was ignoring her. She opted for the most simple approach. Speeding up slightly, she moved up beside Tara – but not so close as to give the blonde a fright.

"Hey you," Willow said breezily. The words came out sounding normal enough, but Willow felt anything but on the inside. The rate her heart was beating had little to do with the exercise and everything to do with the effect Tara had on her.

"Holy fuck-" Tara stumbled on a slightly crack in the path and almost went flying. She recovered quickly before turning to confirm that it was indeed Willow Rosenberg who was running beside her. "Sorry, about that...um, hi."

"Don't worry," Willow laughed lightly. "I've had worse greetings." _I'm running beside Tara...just out for a run. Me and Tara. Tara and I, out for a run. _The little mantra kept repeating in her head. After a while it became slightly annoying and she tried to block it out, instead concentrating on the cute little beads of sweat that were sliding down Tara's temples. After a while she realised she ought to say something else.

"So, good run? Well, so far of course. Since I'm sure you've got some fantastic distance in mind."

"Yeah, although no great distance. I was thinking of just going to the yacht club before turning around again. I'm a bit out of shape," Tara admitted. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted Willow to do. A part of her wanted Willow to find her pace too slow and pull off into the distance. However, the other part of her wanted Willow to stay just where she was. She glanced quickly at Willow. One look wasn't enough, she had to look again just to confirm that the redhead wasn't wearing the matching outfit that she had always imagined her running in. The tank top she wore fit her very snugly however, clinging to her breasts, her flat stomach. There was a small patch of sweat between Willow's breasts, indicating just how human she was.

Her own t-shirt however, felt as though she had been swimming in it. She was sure every inch of it was soaked in sweat and that she looked as foul as she felt. Everything about herself felt awkward and uncomfortable. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from being in the blissful headspace of a runner 'in the zone' to being a nervous wreck because the woman she was infatuated with was running beside her.

Tara put a hand to her head as though she was trying to keep a headache at bay when in actual fact she felt like running headfirst into a tree just so she really would have a headache. She needed something to keep her mind off the woman running next to her. Tara cast another glance over her shoulder and tried to watch Willow surreptitiously as she ran. The redhead had an expression of steely determination, betraying none of the inner turmoil she herself felt. Tara willed her to lose her mask just a little, just so she could see that she was having as much of an impact on Willow as Willow was having on her.

Willow sapped all her concentration to the point where she almost ran headfirst into a runner travelling in the opposite direction. He served and they ended up clashing shoulders. Tara stumbled, barely hearing the angry 'watch where you're going' comment thrown back at her.

"Are you okay?" Willow slowed down as Tara regained her footing, even going as far as to put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

The touch was electrifying to her sweaty skin, but Tara angrily yanked her arm away and slowed to a brisk walk. "Yes!" she snapped before suddenly shaking her head. "And no…you just can't do this to me, Willow!"

"I'm sorry," Willow also stopped running. _Oh my god, I've fucked it up already and Faith is going to kick the crap out of me._ However, the thought of an arse kicking from Faith paled in comparison to the thought of Tara never wanting to see her again.

Now she no longer had to concentrate so strongly on her running, Tara finally saw the mask slip. The redhead's green eyes were wide with concern for what she might have done to piss Tara off. She felt a pang of regret at her sudden outburst. Willow had been feeling the same all along; she had merely been more successful at hiding it.

"No, I'm sorry…" Tara began.

"No, this was stupid. I should have just let you continue on your run without interrupting and ruining it." Willow wiped a few sweaty strands of hair out of her face.

Tara watched her as she did it. At once, she wished that she had thought to do that for Willow. Touching Willow's face and hair would have been so simple and yet so intimate. She looked away. There was no way that she had the right to do anything of the sort. They weren't girlfriends, or even ex-girlfriends.

"That's not quite what I meant," Tara began to explain as she continued walking. "I don't care that you interrupted my run, I care that…that you're here. Standing in front of me."

"Um, that is kind of the same thing," Willow replied.

Tara half-grunted in exasperation at herself. "I look like shit okay! I'm sweaty, probably all red in the face…and…you're here." _The woman of my dreams is here…seeing me like this!_

"I'm here…just as sweaty as you and no doubt even redder in the face because of an annoying tendency to turn into a beetroot when I exercise," Willow said when it was clear that Tara was tongue tied. She drew in a breath and decided to cut to the heart of the matter. "So what's the problem?"

Tara was slightly taken aback at the bluntness of Willow's question. "The problem?"

"It's quite simple, regardless of the fact that neither of us feels as though we're looking our best - which is bloody ridiculous because hello, the hot sweaty you with the cute little red cheeks is just hot – it comes down to whether you want to see my back running off into the distance or if you want me to be here, beside you."

Her cheeks flamed at Willow's inserted comment, and she felt something else flaming as well. It was clear that Willow Rosenberg could turn her on like no one she had ever met before. Just with the simple compliment, Tara wanted to throw her up against the tree they were passing and kiss her senseless.

She drew in a breath and replied meekly. "I don't know." _Pathetic, Tara. Absolutely pathetic._

"That is a lame response," Willow said, unknowingly agreeing with Tara's internal assessment of her reply. She tried another tactic. "Come out with me Thursday night?"

"Willow, I don't know if that's such a good-"

Willow shook her head quickly before Tara could finish. "No, you don't even have to come out with me. Just come to an exhibition launch at the City Gallery, bring Faith, or bring whoever you want…you don't even have to feel obliged to talk to me when you get there, just come. That'll give you time to come up with a better answer to my question than a lame 'I don't know.'"

"I'll think about it," was all Tara could say.

"Is that as good as answer as I'm going to get?" Willow asked cheekily.

"Yes, it's as good as you're going to get." Tara couldn't help but let a tiny grin creep onto her face. It was with a little regret that she saw they had reached the yacht club. While she wanted to keep running with Willow, her knees wouldn't thank her in the morning. "This is me, you can keep going if you want?"

"I might as well turn around with you," Willow replied as casually as she could. "I mean, it's not like I'm super fit or anything...and I am kind of hungry."

"Willow, you don't have to explain yourself. I've forced myself to accept the fact that you've now seen me all sweaty and gross. There's no going back."

"Well, I have already seen you naked, so it's not like you'd be taking a step backwards anyway," Willow replied, speaking before thinking. "Sorry, that just slipped out."

Tara tried to ignore the comment, but her cheeks were so hot she had to look in the opposite direction. Thankfully, Willow didn't comment on her silence and the pair of them continued without any further discussion of the one night stand that had started everything. However, while neither girl would talk about it, it was on both their minds.

As far as Willow could recall, Tara had been quite sweaty that night too.

All too soon, they arrived back at the point where Tara had left Faith with her 'injured' ankle. As Tara pulled to a gentle halt, Willow continued jogging on the spot for a few moments.

"So, I guess I might see you Thursday?"

"I guess you might."

Willow flashed Tara an adorable grin that almost had her saying she would definitely be there. Then the redhead continued on her way.

"Hi Faith!" Willow said rather brightly as she ran past, continuing on her way. "Take care of that ankle!"

There was something in Willow's greeting that caused Tara to wonder at the change in the dynamic between her best friend and Willow. As far as she knew, they hardly knew each other. After the initial excitement of Tara's fling with Willow, Faith had carried a rather healthy resentment towards the arrogant redhead. Something had changed, and it made her suspicious.

She fully expected Willow to glance back over her shoulder. In fact, she found herself waiting for Willow to glance back over her shoulder. With each passing step that she didn't turn around, Tara felt her heart sink further. She was just about to give up altogether and turn her attention back to Faith when Willow did glance backwards over her shoulder. It was just a quick glance, made all the quicker by the fact she saw that Tara was watching her, but it was enough.

An elated Tara turned around and lifted her eyebrows at the sight of Faith standing effortlessly on both feet. She glanced down at the previously injured ankle and saw that her friend made no effort to hide the fact that she was putting her full weight on it. Her previous suspicions were confirmed.

"You sneaky little toad!" Tara gasped as she came to the realisation of what had just happened. "Willow didn't just happen to bump into me! You set that up didn't you?"

"I may have done," Faith admitted freely. "But my subterfuge is totally beside the point. I'm guessing from Willow's relatively jovial mood, the absence of tears and that slight spring in your step that it went brilliantly? Well, spill?"

"There's hardly anything to spill. She asked me to an exhibition launch at City Gallery on Thursday night," Tara answered casually. "I didn't make any promises. I told her I might show up."

"But you are going, right?" Faith asked the question almost as though she were giving an order.

Tara sighed as the tiny shape that was Willow Rosenberg became increasingly hard to see in the distance. "Of course I'm going."

"You're going?" Faith was slightly taken aback. She had expected to spend more time convincingly Tara to go. "Okay, you're going."

"And you're coming with me to make up for this little stunt you just pulled," Tara added.

Faith could only sheepishly agree as she began walking back towards the city. "I'm coming."

"And thank you."

"No worries…hang on a sec, why are you thanking me?"

"I don't know how you did it, or even what made you do it, but I'm glad you did."

"Well, you were either going to thank me or shoot me!" Faith laughed lightly.

"Now, if your sore foot is up to it, race you back to my place?" Tara suggested.

Faith groaned. "Can't we just have a leisurely stroll? Maybe stop for a beer?"

"No fucking way, mate. "Tara launched forward into a brisk jog and Faith was forced to follow suit. "I know one run isn't going to fix months of sitting on the couch but it will sure as hell make me feel better about myself when I'm squeezing into a dress for that launch."

"Oh god," Tara gasped as they started running. Everything was finally beginning to sink in. Firstly, there was the fact that she had just had a relatively normal conversation with Willow. Secondly, that she had actually made the decision to go. Despite the dread she felt at the thought of being in a social setting with Willow, she also felt something that could almost be called excitement. "What the hell am I doing?"

"Yeah, T," Faith added. "What the hell are you doing?"

Tara sighed and admitted something that took Faith completely by surprise, "I love her. I don't think I'm supposed to know what the hell I'm doing." She suddenly realised the gravity of her admission and didn't really feel like running any longer. "Fuck it, let's go for a beer."


	18. There was a Woman

**~Chapter Eighteen~**

**There was a W****oman****, Beautiful as Morning**

The City Gallery was teeming with the excited chatter of art enthusiasts and those just attending for the complimentary alcohol. Willow was there for neither the art nor the alcohol - although she might have been tempted to label Tara Maclay a masterpiece of the human form.

Willow knew very little about art. Though her apartment was decorated with several bold pieces, they had all been selected by an interior designer. They remained as a backdrop to her life, but she felt no emotional attachment to them. As she walked around the gallery she had to admit, from a purely aesthetic point of view, that the artists' work on display was exceptionally pleasing to the eye. She reasoned that this was largely because most of the works dealt with the nude female form - something which she felt herself quite qualified to judge. However, there was something about the particular paintings that stood out from anything else Willow had ever seen. In them she could see the vibrancy and life that was missing in the works she owned. As her eyes roamed appreciatively over the exquisite way in which the artist had depicted the female body, she realised that she could already picture several of the works hanging in her apartment. She had originally come to the exhibition for Tara, but regardless of what happened with the blonde, she thought perhaps she would at least go home with some art.

Her silent contemplation of the artworks was interrupted by the return of Buffy, who had disappeared in search of a bathroom a few minutes earlier. She returned with a full glass of wine in her hand, already her second for the evening.

"I still can't believe you dragged me along to one of these things," Buffy commented before taking a generous sip of wine. She quickly followed up with a second and third sip until the glass was empty. With a sigh, she examined the glass as though wondering how it had disappeared so quickly. "Some clients invited me to the opening of that big Monet show last year; I stood by the buffet and stuffed myself with crème brulé and profiteroles all night because I was so bored."

Willow eyed her own glass that she had barely touched. She took her first sip and immediately her nerves kicked in, compelling her to gulp the entire glass in one long gulp. The old Willow would have sought out another glass. However, when a passing waiter asked if she wanted a refill she declined and placed the empty glass on his tray. Buffy held out her own glass, all the while scanning the room as though she was looking for something or someone in particular to entertain her.

"You're the Marketing and Communications Manager," Willow picked up on Buffy's lack of enthusiasm. "Aren't you supposed to be places like this, communicating with the public, not to mention our clients and stakeholders?"

Buffy stopped looking around the room and returned her attention to Willow. One eyebrow was arched slightly. "You're already sounding as though you've been indoctrinated into the corporate world. Haven't I had any sort of positive influence over you at all? Or are my efforts pointless because it's in your blood?"

Willow shrugged. She had no clue. Although she had without a doubt come from a family who lived and breathed business, she had turned her back on it for a long time. "You've had more of an influence than you'll know, Buffy. I'm glad you decided to come tonight."

Buffy grinned. "It's my good deed for the month. I did have the stupidly optimistic idea that there might be some potential candidates for my next foray into the disastrous world of romance, but it's looking pretty bleak."

Willow had to force a grin at the mention of the word 'romance.' Even as she chatted with Buffy, the door continued to hold at least part of her attention as she waited patiently for Tara. Her nerves buzzed persistently, but she was not overly concerned that the blonde had not yet made an appearance. It was still relatively early. She forced herself to relax, helping herself to a filo pastry from a passing tray.

"So you're single?" Willow asked after she swallowed the bite-sized morsel, her curiosity piqued slightly. If she was going to have to wait for Tara for show up, then she could at least pass her time finding out a little more about her colleague and, she hoped, her friend.

"I know it's hard to imagine a piece of arse as fine as mine being single," Buffy said as she made a twirl in her short black dress. "I was practically married up until five months ago. Riley and I had been together for nine years. Nine fucking years wasted on one person who turned out to be a scoundrel. Can you imagine that?"

"Spending nine years with someone?" Willow asked. Up until she met Tara, she would not have contemplated it in her wildest dreams. The scoundrel part, however, she understood perfectly. "Maybe, if they were the right one. Someone you could see yourself growing old with."

As Willow's words trailed off, as if on cue, Tara chose that precise moment to walk through the door and into the gallery. Willow was entirely glad she wasn't holding a glass of wine for it would have slipped from a hand made sweaty by just the sight of the beautiful blonde.

* * *

"I am so not drunk enough for this," Tara whispered as she gazed up at the façade of the City Gallery.

Given that the building had once been the city's library, it was an imposing neo-classical design. Despite the soft lighting spreading up its walls, giving it an elegant beauty, Tara found it intimidating. She was already hoping that it would be the site of another disaster involving Willow Rosenberg.

"I thought you said you loved her?" Faith asked in exasperation. "I thought we spent three hours and five beers discussing why and how much you loved her?"

"I do, which is precisely the problem. My expectations are too high." Tara suddenly spun on her heels and clasped Faith by her wrists with a fervent expression in her eyes. "Am I doing the right thing?"

"T, you look gorgeous and Willow has promised to be on her best behaviour, if this night doesn't go smoothly then nothing will," Faith tried to reassure her best friend. Tara did indeed look gorgeous in the deep red dress she wore. The material folded to every curve of her body, accentuating and highlighting her best assets. Having just come from work, Faith felt decidedly dowdy in her stylish suit. However, it wasn't her night. She grinned and held out her arms. "Come here you."

Faith enfolded her in a quick hug, not wanting to get too close for fear of crumpling Tara's dress. However, the reassuring contact gave Tara a new measure of confidence. She stepped back and turned towards the doorway with a determined look in her eyes.

"Now get your arse inside." Faith prodded Tara in the small of her back with an insistent hand. "If things start turning ugly then I'll get you out in a flash. In the meantime, you're going to hold a civilised conversation with Willow and start figuring out whether she's the type of woman you want in your life."

"But she is the type of woman I want in my life," Tara protested as Faith continued to drive her up the steps and through the front door of the gallery.

"Start thinking with your big brain, not your little one, T," Faith reminded her. "I know she's hot, but she's also a pain in the arse. Got that?"

"Willow is a pain in my arse. Got it," Tara nodded in agreement. The pair of them walked through the gallery's entrance foyer and followed the noisy babble towards the show that they were supposedly there to see.

As they entered the exhibition space, Tara was relieved to find that the opening was obviously the hot ticket in town that evening. She had been worried that there would be no crowd for her to hide amongst. Despite the number of people, Tara's gaze was instinctively drawn to the woman she had come to see. She could hardly blame Willow for standing out in the crowd. The redhead was wearing a short, figure hugging green dress that showed off her lithe, creamy legs to their fullest advantage. Her hair was swept back smooth into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck.

Their eyes met across the room for just a moment. Neither could withstand the intensity of the gaze. Willow looked away a moment later to talk to the short blonde woman at her side. As she turned around, Tara was given a glimpse of the back of the dress and the way in which it moulded perfectly to Willow's body.

"Willow's arse is fine," Tara couldn't stop herself from uttering exactly what was on her mind.

Faith propelled her to one side of the room, out of the doorway where Tara had been holding up other guests. "You are drunk aren't you!" she accused.

"I may have had a couple of gin and tonics at home before the taxi arrived," Tara admitted sheepishly.

With a slight groan, Faith helped herself to a glass of wine from the tray that was offered to her. She threw back her head and downed it in one gulp as though she needed to fortify herself for the evening to come. Upon setting the glass back down, she took another two glasses.

"Don't drink it, just hold it!" she instructed as she handed one to Tara. "And try to look as normal as possible. We're going to do a circuit of the room and look at this lovely…shit on the walls before you even think about talking to Willow. In the state you're in you're liable to say yes to anything she asks you."

"I said I had a couple, I'm not that drunk!" Tara hissed quietly as they began to walk. She ignored Faith's advice and took a small sip of her wine.

At her side, Faith pretended to be engrossed the art. Tara attempted to do the same but she found her eyes kept wandering back to Willow. The redhead was stealing adorably discreet glances over her shoulder back at her. Tara almost smirked as she pondered Faith's last sentence and the last time she had said a drunken yes to Willow Rosenberg. Although she wasn't ready for this night to turn into a frenzied bout of passion starting in a bathroom stall and ending at Willow's apartment, she could still tease herself with the possibility.

* * *

"Hello potential Mrs Buffy Summers!" Buffy exclaimed with delight, interrupting Willow's reverie.

"What did you say?" Willow asked rather bluntly, a million thoughts were flying through her head at Buffy's startling admission. She turned and looked at Buffy to see her staring at exactly the same person she had been, Tara.

Although Tara and Faith had obviously seen her, they chose not to approach her straight away. Instead they helped themselves to a glass of wine each and moved on to look at the exhibited artworks – or at least pretend to look at them. She was dying to speak to Tara, but Willow was relieved she had the chance to recover from the information Buffy had just unloaded on her. Her colleague was not only gay or bisexual, she was interested in Tara.

After a few moments of silence between them with Willow alternating between staring at Tara and casting little sidelong glances at Buffy, Buffy finally turned to address the confused look on her face. "The brunette that just came in is fucking hot."

"The brunette?" Willow allowed herself a sigh of relief. Buffy was interested in Faith rather than Tara. However the rather carnal expression on her face as she studied Faith was unnerving. "You're gay? But you said Riley..."

"I know, isn't it annoying when parents give their children unisex names?" replied Buffy, obviously enjoying herself. "It often leads to incorrect assumptions."

"You can't be gay," Willow protested, trying to keep her voice down.

Buffy laughed lightly. "I'm just as gay as you are, and obviously my gaydar is a hell of a lot better than yours."

"You knew I was gay?" Willow asked in a limp voice. "What about trying to set me up with Grant the accountant?"

"I never said I was trying to set you up with him! The amount of time you spend staring at Candice's legs borders on the obscene," Buffy explained bluntly. She patted Willow's arm in a placating manner. "Right, now that's settled, we're just two lesbians who need to get laid. Unless I'm mistaken, you've got your eye on that blonde, which is just as well because I think we've already established that the brunette is mine."

"Um, the brunette is straight," Willow added quietly. She didn't really want to spoil Buffy's plans for seduction but she had an inkling that Faith could quite possibly kick her arse if she tried to come onto her.

Buffy didn't seem overly worried by Willow's insight. "I thought we already established that your gaydar isn't quite up to scratch?"

"No, I know them, and she's straight," Willow stressed the word 'straight.' She was still feeling somewhat deflated over the fact that Buffy had trumped her in terms of having better gaydar. Also, Tara and Faith were already half way around the room. She finally felt the urge to acknowledge Tara's presence. The next time the blonde looked towards her, she made a funny little attempt at a wave. The subsequent smile from Tara in return left her giddy.

Buffy didn't miss the exchange. She smiled knowingly. "I get it. You and that blonde have history?"

"You might call it that," Willow found herself looking around for another glass of wine. "However, said history wasn't exactly all that rosy. In fact, it was a fucking disaster. I'm attempting to make the future a whole lot rosier with more fucking and less disaster."

Buffy laughed out loud at Willow's determined statement. "Well I'm more than willing to give you a few tips on wooing the ladies if you'd like?"

"You've just come out of a nine year relationship?" Willow replied. "How the heck do you know anything about wooing when you're so out of practice? People were probably still wearing shoulder pads and fluorescent lycra when you were last dating!"

"Oh ha-ha," Buffy retorted sarcastically.

There were no more opportunities for Willow and Buffy to trade further playful barbs as Tara and Faith were almost upon them. Neither pair knew what to say initially despite the fact that they had ample time to prepare. Willow and Tara just stood and snatched little glances at one another while Buffy stared directly and boldly at Faith. Faith was just confused at the seemingly undeserved attention shown by the little blonde woman.

Willow finally had to say something when Buffy jabbed her sharply in the ribs with a well-placed elbow.

"Um, hi," Willow paused and swallowed awkwardly. She fervently wished that she had gone in search of the wine she had been thinking about, just so she would have something to do with her hands. To keep from gesticulating wildly in front of her, she clasped them firmly behind her back. "Hi, thanks so much for coming…both of you. It's so good we could all be here…together." Buffy jabbed Willow again. "Um, Buffy, these are my…friends, Tara, and Faith. Tara and Faith, this is my work colleague, Buffy Summers."

"Pleased to meet you too," Buffy said as she pumped Tara's hand enthusiastically for a few seconds. The real attention however, was reserved for Faith. She took the brunette's outstretched hand and simply held it rather than shaking it. "Faith, that is a simply wonderful name. And that suit is from Zambesi's winter collection isn't it?"

"Um, yes," Faith replied slowly, eventually Buffy gave her hand back. "It is."

Buffy smiled appreciatively. "Well, it was obviously made for you."

"Thanks…I think," Faith replied. "It's just a suit really."

Willow didn't like the predatory gleam in Buffy's eyes. Although she did not know Faith well, she thought the brunette appeared a little flustered. She quickly piped up, "So, what do you think of the show?"

"It is a beautiful show," Tara nodded. "Some of the works are absolutely exquisite, but I never really pegged you for an art lover."

"Me? I'm a huge, huge fan of all the creative arts!" Willow replied enthusiastically. "Music, art…and literature, especially literature."

Willow beamed and made no attempt to hide the obvious flattery of Tara's own profession. Instead of embarrassment, Tara felt a small surge of pride that Willow would even think to call what she wrote 'literature.'

Willow continued, "As a matter of fact I was just telling Buffy that I was thinking of buying a few pieces from the show."

"They would look amazing in your apartment," Tara commented with a slight flush to her cheeks. Even though she had only been inside Willow's home a few times, she remembered the large white walls.

Between them, Buffy coughed discreetly. "Hey, Will, Why don't you toddle off that way with Tara and get her to help you chose a few pieces?" she suggested with a slight wink. She turned looked at Faith with a broad smile on her face. "I'll make sure Faith is well looked after."

Faith's expression indicated that she wasn't entirely pleased with the arrangement, but she nodded. Tara took that as her permission to be left alone with Willow, provided she behaved herself. As she and Willow left Faith in Buffy's capable hands, she realised that she was no longer afraid to be left alone with her. Her tense shoulders relaxed and she allowed herself another small sip of wine to clear her throat.

"So, I get that you like art, but what made you think of inviting me here?" Tara asked. It wasn't exactly the destination she had expected for their first real, almost date-like interaction.

Willow grinned and, slightly emboldened by Tara's own relaxed manner, took her gently by the elbow and led her back towards the entrance. The title of the show was displayed and near the bottom, a discreet cluster of logos representing the sponsors of the show. Willow pointed towards the largest.

"RB Dynamics?" Tara asked with a frown. She then remembered the tiny scraps of information that Willow had given her about herself and her expression became one of comprehension. "Oh, it's the company you mentioned…your company?"

"Rosenberg Brothers," Willow explained. "I'm just starting out as a Marketing Executive. Buffy's kind of my boss. Not that she's all that bossy, she just tells me what to do, y'know because I don't really know what I'm doing. Anyway, RB Dynamics is obviously sponsoring the show so hence having to put in an appearance on behalf of the company. Not that it's a chore because as I said, this is a great show-"

Tara laughed and interrupted Willow's babble. A part of her wished she were more like Buffy so she would be bold enough to stop her with a gentle touch. As it was, her fingers just twitched with longing. "I get it Willow. Thank you, they don't normally invite writers to art openings."

"Even though you're practically a celebrity?" Willow asked cheekily.

"Hardly," Tara shook her head. "That's a good thing though. I wouldn't want to be recognised everywhere I go."

Tara briefly searched the room to check on Faith's whereabouts. She found her on the opposite side of the gallery. Along with Willow's friend, she was examining a painting. Tara frowned when she saw the way in which Buffy was standing, her body language towards Faith. Then she reached out and placed a hand on her forearm, lingering a moment longer than was necessary. Faith turned her head slightly and instead of an expression of annoyance, Tara could see the small smile on her face.

"That is odd," Tara commented quietly to herself.

"Did you say something?" Willow asked.

Tara nodded towards their friends. Now Faith was laughing at something Buffy had said. "Um, Willow, I take it that Buffy's attentiveness isn't entirely platonic?"

"Errr, no, it's not," Willow admitted. "I did try to stress Faith's straightness, being straight and all."

"Well, she broke up with Karl so she's available, but I wouldn't have thought she'd be that available." Tara couldn't understand the way Faith was behaving. From where she stood, it looked like her friend was thoroughly enjoying the attentions of the other woman. "Okay, it's just too weird."

"Can I be so bold as to suggest that we head out into the courtyard?" Willow asked tentatively. "I don't want to be in here when Faith clobbers Buffy for getting a little too close."

Tara laughed lightly and focussed her own attention back on Willow. "I don't think she's drunk enough for clobbering, but you're right. They are kind of distracting." She lowered her voice slightly before continuing. There was also a slight, nervous quaver to it, "Besides, I'd really like to sit down and talk, you and I."

Willow smiled tenuously, shyly and made a little bobbing of her head that was supposed to pass as a nod. "So would I."

After commandeering a bottle of wine and a fresh glass for herself, Willow led Tara out to the gallery's small courtyard. There were several people outside already, most having a cigarette. Willow and Tara managed to find a secluded corner bench upwind of the noisome smoke. Both women sat slowly, each painfully aware of their proximity to the other. They consciously settled on an appropriate distance between them so while they were close, their bodies were not touching.

Willow opened the wine, grateful that it was just a sauvignon and she had no cork to contend with. She splashed a little in Tara's glass as it was hardly touched and filled her own almost to the brim. With the bottle of wine set out of the way beneath the seat, she could turn her whole attention to the gorgeous woman sitting on the seat next to her. Casually, she leant forward and rested her left elbow on her knee, bringing her a little closer to Tara.

"I'm so very glad you came," Willow said quietly, unable to draw her gaze anywhere other than Tara's blue eyes.

"Me too," Tara began, a little flustered by their proximity and the husky undercurrent to Willow's voice. "I mean, I'm glad I came, not glad that you're glad I came…or maybe I am."

This time it was her own babbling that needed to be stopped. She took a small sip of her wine, still mindful of Faith's earlier advice not to drink too much on top of the gin and tonic she had consumed earlier. In the resulting silence, she became all too aware of Willow's proximity. If she reached out her hand just a little, it would brush the soft skin of her thigh. Thinking about Willow's thigh brought her back to the way it felt beneath her fingers. They twitched with involuntary longing again and she was forced to snatch them back and place them in her lap. She met Willow's gaze and found it easier than she had expected. It was all too easy to lose herself in studying her face - from the green eyes dancing, to the way in which her red lips were parted slightly in anticipation. Tara couldn't help herself as she let an involuntary and disturbingly loud sigh of longing. The air between them crackled with sexual energy and tension.

"So!" Tara quickly broke the silence. She leant backwards to put a little more distance between them. It had been getting to the point where they would either have to talk or kiss. "I know a little more about you, but the rest? I assume one of the Rosenberg Brothers is your father?"

Willow nodded. She removed her elbow from her knee and sat up a little straighter so she could take a deep gulp of her wine.

"One of the Rosenberg brothers was my father," she replied quietly.

"Oh Willow, I'm sorry!" Tara felt awful for causing the sad expression to pass over Willow's face. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

When Tara stopped speaking, she realised that she had instinctively reached out and laid her fingers across the top of Willow's hand. She was about to draw them back when one of Willow's fingers brushed gently against hers. For a brief moment, their hands remained partially entwined before Tara let her hand fall back to her lap.

"I'm glad you did," Willow said. "I feel as though there are things I should tell you, but I'm a little worried because I don't want any of it to sound like an explanation…an excuse."

She let out a shaky breath and took another sip of wine. For a moment, she stopped to think if she really wanted to let Tara in to such an extent. Of all the women who had come into her life over the years, she had not told a single one of them about her past. However the young woman sitting in front of her was different, something that Willow had always known from the moment she had laid eyes on her. It had just taken her several mistakes and a lot of time to realise that.

"I would have definitely been in the running for the luckiest little girl in the world," Willow began in a soft voice. "The only child of the owner of the biggest technology development company in the country and his beauty queen wife."

"Your Mum was a beauty queen?" Tara asked in the pause.

Willow managed a grin. "I really lucked out didn't I?"

"Yeah, you totally didn't inherit any of her looks," Tara chuckled, pleased that the sombre mood had been enlivened somewhat.

"You know how you think a family is perfect, and then you scratch a little at the surface and find that it's all just a lie? Well, there were no lies in my life. It was perfect. My parents spent every day of their lives loving each other as though they had just met. That kind of atmosphere makes the most comfortable childhood you could ever imagine. I lived in a little bubble of warmth and love." Willow found a small smile creeping across her face. "It wasn't always sunshine and happiness. I was a bit of a precocious brat at times…but my parents kept me grounded.

"You're right, it does sound perfect," Tara commented quietly.

"It really was, until it that little world crumbled when I was fourteen. My Dad was killed in a light plane crash…just one of those tragic accidents you know?" Willow paused for another drink as Tara let out a gasp of sympathy. "People die, it's just what happens and you get on with your life. The real tragedy was that my mother couldn't. I missed Dad like crazy, but it was though she had died in that crash too. I needed her, and she shut me out completely. She'd spend day after day shut away in her room, I barely saw her and when I did, she was just this empty shell that wasn't really my mother anymore."

"Who looked after you?" Tara asked even though she already knew the answer.

"No one," Willow shook her head. "My aunt and uncle tried to, but he was busy trying to keep the company running successfully and I pushed Aunt Sarah away because she couldn't replace my mother. I found other replacements though. With no supervision, I could go anywhere, do anything. I came out when I was fifteen…even though no one was out at school. Then it was Xander and I. He's my best friend and I love him dearly, but a teenaged guy couldn't understand what I really needed. Instead he just helped me fill my life with as much craziness and laughter and fun as he could. I wanted to live; I didn't want to be like my mother shut away in her room, wasting away over someone who was dead."

"What did happen to your Mum?"

"A few years after Dad died, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It was already too late, it had spread to other organs and she was too weak to fight it. I think she just didn't care about living anymore. She went downhill quickly and died just after my eighteenth birthday." Willow let out a shaky breath. "She didn't even tell me she was sick until near the end, but the truth was, I had already distanced myself from her to the point where we never saw each other anyway. I already had my own apartment. When she died, nothing changed. I didn't want to acknowledge the fact that I had let her become a recluse so I ignored what had happened. That's about it. You already know how I turned out, you had the pleasure of meeting that girl."

"I'm so sorry, Willow." Willow's story made Tara realise that she had not called her own parents for almost a month. She made a mental note to text and tell them to be on Skype first thing in the morning.

Willow shook her head. "Don't be. What happened to my parents was tragic, but it should never have given me the excuse to act the way I did…to hurt as many people as I did - to hurt you."

Tara surprised herself by agreeing with Willow. However, the combination of her father dying so tragically and then her mother's neglect made for a tragically unfortunate set of circumstances. She couldn't claim that she would have reacted differently. With Audrey's death, she would have struggled to recover without Faith. She wanted to tell Willow about that part of her life, but it wasn't the right time. Instead, she brought up something which had been causing her to feel guilty for some time.

"I do have an apology of my own to make. I'm so terribly sorry for jumping to conclusions and calling you a liar over that stupid Claire Larsen thing." Even just thinking about the incident made Tara realise how stupid and petty it was. "I meant to call and apologise afterwards but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was too ashamed."

Willow merely shrugged, trying to keep outwardly cool even though her insides were doing somersaults at the fact that Tara was talking to her instead of running in the opposite direction. "It's okay. Forgotten already, and besides, given my track record it was a valid assumption to make."

Tara frowned. She found herself not liking Willow's low opinion of herself. It wasn't right that such a beautiful, confident woman should think in such a manner. "No it's not okay, Willow. Do you want to be judged on your past for the rest of your life?"

"How do you know that it isn't my present, and my future?" Willow asked, barely loud enough for Tara to hear despite the relative silence of the courtyard.

Tara studied her wine glass for a moment before replying. She had to ask herself if she wanted to take the next step - to really 'go there' with Willow. She found the answer surprisingly easy. "I don't," she finally replied. "But I would like it not to be."

"Why?" Willow felt a slight elation at Tara's words.

"Because I want to see more of you, dummy," Tara ventured in an emphatic tone, surprising herself with her own boldness. "And I don't want to share you with anyone. Not your psycho ex - Kelly, Claire Larsen…not anyone."

"I promise you won't," Willow replied quickly, her voice equally as emphatic.

"So…I guess I can ask you out then?" Tara asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I guess you can," Willow replied, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Tara drew in a breath. Why was such a simple question so hard to force out? "Willow Rosenberg, will you be my girlfriend?"

"I can't find anything better to say other than yes," Willow said, her composure slipping completely. "A hundred million times yes!"

Willow was about to throw her arms around Tara when I shadow fell over them both. They turned to see Faith standing in front of them with a helpless expression on her face.

"Willow's my girlfriend," Tara announced happily, hoping the news would remove the look from Faith's face.

"That's fucking fantastic," Faith replied, looking over her shoulder. "I'm kind of sorry...well, not really all that sorry, but T, do you think we can get going soon?"

"You're not having fun?" Tara asked worriedly.

"Yes!" Faith exclaimed in reply. "And that's the problem, I'm having too much fun. She's smart, fucking hilarious, gorgeous and she's a she! Why do I even think she's so gorgeous? Why am I contemplating kissing her every time she looks at me?"

"Um, you're possibly attracted to her?" Tara suggested tentatively. She didn't need to guess that the 'she' was Buffy but beyond that she understood very little of what Faith had just said. She was still trying to process everything when Faith continued.

"I know!" Faith agreed all too readily. "And as much as I'm a friend of the gays, I'm sure as hell not ready to go there...so can we go home?"

"Yeah, sure, just give me a minute, okay?" Tara nodded.

"Fine, don't be too long. I'm going to go wait in the foyer but if I'm not there when you get back I'll probably be in the bathroom making out with Buffy, or in the back of a taxi on the way to her house. Just hurry, okay? Before she gets out of the bathroom."

Faith marched away and left Willow and Tara, still rather stunned, sitting on the bench. Their eyes met and they immediately collapsed into a fit of laughter that had them both doubled over for several seconds.

When Tara finally calmed down enough to straighten up, she listened to the musical sound of Willow's laugh for a few moments before the redhead too ceased to laugh. She decided that her laugh was one of the nicest sounds she had ever heard...maybe as nice as hearing Willow's hoarse breathing in her ear whilst she was fucking her. This thought of course led Tara to ponder what sounds Willow uttered when she came, and she felt an immediate reaction in her gut. So Willow's laugh would hopefully, eventually be her second favourite sound.

"I really shouldn't laugh at her," Tara said quickly, to get rid of the images that were popping up into her head. "But you have to admit that was pretty weird."

"I'm kinda not really surprised," Willow shrugged. "I don't know her that well but my gaydar always pinged a bit with her. You never picked up on it?"

Tara frowned. "Maybe I know her too well."

"Anyway, she sounded like she needed an all night conversation with her best friend so I had better let you go." Willow couldn't keep the reluctance out of her voice. "Again, thank you for coming. I thought perhaps yesterday you'd only said maybe to get rid of me."

"Yeah, I suppose I ought to take her home," Tara said quietly. She slowly rose to her feet. The empty wine glass dangled from her fingers.

"I suppose you should," Willow replied. "However, before you do, there's something I ought to do."

She stood too, but left her own wine glass on the seat behind her. Reaching out slowly, she eased Tara's glass from her hand and set it down beside her own.

As soon as the glass was taken from her, Tara knew exactly what Willow's intentions were. Her breath caught in her throat despite the fact she knew she had to breathe to calm down her rapidly rising heartbeat. However, as soon as Willow slipped one and around her waist and rested the other gently on her cheek, Tara felt her fears dissipate. Willow then drew her in close before she kissed her. Within the warmth generated between their bodies, there was a comfortable familiarity.

Every cell in Willow's body was urging her to kiss Tara. Her body was on fire just holding the blonde in her arms. When their lips finally met, she found herself hungrily devouring Tara's. She wanted to intensify the contact, to explore as much as possible. After just a few seconds, she forced herself to pull back. Tara's breath fell hot and fast on her face. She found herself clutching Tara desperately to keep from falling over.

"I'm sorry," Willow whispered. "I had every intention of being slow, gentle, but I just want you so much-"

She was interrupted as an impatient Tara resumed their kiss. This time, Willow let herself be guided by the blonde. She managed to restrain her emotions and dwell on the simple pleasure of her lips against Tara's. The fierceness was still there, it just became slow and languorous.

When they eventually pulled apart a few minutes later, Willow felt her lips throbbing. Tara's plump, red lips curved upwards into a lop-sided smile. Willow couldn't resist, she reached out and gently touched that smile with her fingertips. With the pads of her fingers alive with sensation, she caressed the tender, moist flesh.

Suddenly a loud, rude cough interrupted her exploration of Tara's lips and any further conversation. Startled, Willow spun on her heels to see Faith had returned and was standing behind her.

The brunette was obviously impatient. "Willow, T, can you please hurry up and finish your PDA before I change my mind and decide to turn gay-"

Willow felt compelled to deposit one last peck on Tara's lips before releasing her hold. At once she felt bereft without the blonde's warmth in her arms.

"-I know, I know. I can't 'turn' gay but she's making me bendy okay!" Faith continued.

Willow and Tara shared another laugh at Faith's expense. The brunette uttered a tortured sigh and turned on her heels. The still smiling pair then followed her out of the courtyard and back towards the gallery's entrance.

"You still have my number?" Willow asked once they were outside, not caring how desperate she sounded.

"Despite my better judgement telling me to delete it, yes Willow, I still have your number," Tara nodded in confirmation.

"And you'll use it?"

"Of course I'll use it, you doofus!" Tara leaned forward and embraced Willow once again, not wanting to maintain the contact for too long for fear that she would not be able to let go.

While Willow and Tara were saying their goodbyes, Buffy emerged from the gallery and saw that Faith was headed towards the taxi stand on the other side of the street. Before she could escape altogether, Buffy ran as fast as she was able to in her ridiculous heels and caught up to the brunette.

Faith heard the clattering of heels on concrete and spun around. A slightly anguished look crossed her face at the sight of her blonde admirer.

"You didn't think you'd be able to get away that easily did you?" Buffy asked, cocking her head to one side expectantly.

Faith let out a groan. "Oh, fuck it!" She surged forward and pressed her lips to Buffy's in an awkward kiss. At first it was almost awful, combined with Faith's inhibitions and Buffy's shock at the unexpected move, however both soon melted into the other. When it became clear to Faith that she was having a little too much fun, she pulled back quickly. They were both breathless.

"I've gotta go," she whispered.

This time Buffy, didn't chase after her. She just stood on the pavement with a silly grin on her face that quickly morphed into a naughty smile. When she turned, Tara walked by on her way to join Faith and gave her a rather strange look. Buffy responded with a saucy wink.

The interlude between Faith and Buffy had captured Willow's attention for a moment. However she was more concerned about the fact that Tara was leaving. The blonde was easing herself into the taxi in which Faith was already sitting, obviously impatient to go. Willow raised her hand in farewell and Tara responded by blowing a kiss.

The taxi pulled away from the curb. Tara continued to look at her out the window. When she could no longer see Tara, Willow had to find the nearest seat as her jelly-like legs could no longer support her weight. She slumped down onto a concrete verge behind her. She sat in blissfully contented silence until Buffy joined her and uttered a contented sigh.

"I am so gonna get laid this weekend," Buffy announced.

"You and me both, Buffy," Willow said in a breathless, almost giddy voice – she didn't give a damn that they were both being overly presumptuous. "You and me both."


	19. Children of a Sunnier Star

**~ Chapter 19~**

**Children of a sunnier star**

The remainder of the week couldn't pass quickly enough for Willow. Tara had spent much of the week up in Auckland at a readers and writer's festival so the first opportunity they could find to go on a second outing together was Saturday. However, first Willow had to sit through brunch with Buffy and Xander. Her best friend had not yet had an opportunity to meet her new co-worker so she had agreed to meet them both at Café L'Affare before she met up with Tara. She had briefly considered inviting Tara along to the brunch as well but the thought of both Xander and Buffy quizzing her relentlessly put Willow off.

The morning had dawned bright, with only a light northerly. She chose to walk to L'Affare rather than drive as she was then going straight to meet Tara. When she reached her favourite brunch destination, she found Xander had already secured a much sought-after outdoor table. He was busy guarding it from young metro families burdened with prams and toddlers. Willow grinned as she saw him swat at the fingers of someone trying to steal one of the table's chairs.

"Good morning," Willow said brightly as she strolled up to join her friend.

"Oh my god," Xander exclaimed with wide eyes as he looked up at her. "Willow Rosenberg, what the hell are you wearing? You do realise we're here to eat, not jog?"

Willow frowned and glanced down at her outfit. Xander was partially right in that she had chosen to wear a pair of running shorts, although her t-shirt was from one of her favourite local labels and the brand new hiking shoes on her feet had cost her almost as much as a pair of patent leather heels. To top it all off, there was a backpack slung over her shoulder instead of her Fendi purse.

She glanced back up at Xander and saw him staring at her shoes as though he were about to have a heart attack. Cheekily, she lifted one foot to wave in the direction of his face.

"Those look positively butch, Will," he remarked as she reached forward for a hug.

"I can do butch when I want," Willow laughed lightly. She deposited a kiss on his cheek as she squeezed him tightly. "I'm going to Eastbourne with Tara, and Buffy mentioned that the trails there were all pretty steep so hence the new kicks," Willow said as she sat down. She bent over to tug a little at the laces and pull up her thick socks. "Although I only had the chance to wear them around my apartment a couple of times so there may be blisters involved."

"Ah, Buffy, the infamous lesbian co-worker," Xander rubbed his hands together with glee. "I can't wait to meet her."

"And I can't wait for you to try and bait her," Willow replied. "Be careful with her Xan, she'll give as good as she gets."

"Excellent." Xander clapped his hands in anticipation. "Let's face it, Will, you've grown increasingly more mature over the past month and I need someone who will play with me!"

"I'll still play with you," Willow protested. "I'm here now aren't I?"

"Yes, but you're running off to Tara as soon as you possibly can. Not to mention you haven't come to Imerst with me for weeks. I'm going to turn into the lonely old homo in the corner." Xander sighed theatrically and took a sip of his diet coke.

Willow leaned forward and squeezed his cheek. "You're not getting jealous are you?"

"Of course not…" Xander began. "Well, maybe a little. Just because you're all happy and shacked up now doesn't mean you should ignore your best mate."

"I'm not shacked up." It was Willow's turn to sigh. She had to admit that she had been pushing Xander out of her life in her attempt to straighten everything out. However much she loved her best friend, he was a bad influence that she had never been able to say no to. As he stared at her with his puppy dog eyes she smiled and gave in. "Imerst, next weekend then. Although I will be bringing Tara…if she'll come with me."

Xander's mood brightened considerably. "You're on, girlfriend!"

Willow laughed. She had missed him. Perhaps it was time for her to test herself - to see whether she could incorporate elements of her old life that she enjoyed into her new life. A part of her already knew that it would be easy to stay away from her old habits with Tara at her side. Plus, dance clubs led to sexy, close dancing and she knew that her girlfriend had no problems in that department.

"Buffy's here," Xander announced, interrupting Willow's daydreaming just as she was closing her eyes to better lose herself in the picture of Tara's hips gyrating to a rhythmic beat.

Willow opened her eyes and looked in the direction Xander was pointing. She didn't need to ponder why Xander recognised her. The short blonde woman was waving enthusiastically at them as she approached.

"Hello fellow homos," Buffy said as took the remaining seat at their table. She was impeccably attired as always. Although she raised her eyebrows a little at Willow's outfit, she didn't say anything. "So you're the famous Xander Harris?"

Xander took the hand that was offered to him and planted a noisy kiss atop it. "Of course, and you're the infamous Buffy Summers. I hear you like chasing straight girls?"

Buffy laughed lightly. "Guilty as charged!"

Willow was surprised at how easily Buffy made their duo into a trio. She didn't make a point of mentioning it but simply enjoyed the light banter that floated back and forth between them. The lengthy wait time before their meals were served passed by barely noticed as the conversation continued.

As Willow had expected, the conversation eventually turned to her burgeoning romance with Tara.

"I'm finding it hard to believe that you haven't had sex with Tara yet," Buffy commented bluntly – her mouth half full.

"Ditto," Xander pointed towards Buffy in agreement. "Our little Willow has gone from slut to nun all in the space of a few months – and because of a woman."

"Do you have your suspicions that she may not be Willow at all?" Buffy asked with an arched eyebrow.

Xander pursed his lips together thoughtfully. "Hmmm, I'm getting an _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ vibe – the original, not the remake."

"The remake had Daniel Craig," Buffy pointed out helpfully.

"It did," Xander nodded. "Although even eye candy cannot save us from a bad movie."

As Buffy nodded in serious agreement, Willow finally glanced up from her food to acknowledge the banality of their conversation. She did so with a roll of her eyes and went back to her meal. As she lowered her head, she couldn't help but allow a smirk onto her face.

"How much longer do you reckon she'll be able to last?" Buffy asked Xander, a naughty twinkle in her eye.

"A week, no more," he replied quickly. "She's clearly gagging for it judging by the effort she's been putting into her training lately. No one trains that hard unless they're preparing for a marathon or compensating for the lack of sex in their lives."

Willow couldn't repress an annoyed huff. "As a matter of fact, I am thinking of doing the Capital City marathon next month. I'm sure I mentioned it to you."

Xander shook his head emphatically. "Nah, ya didn't."

Before Willow could argue her case further, Buffy added her further opinion, "She won't be able to last a day - she and blondie are going to get it on tonight."

"How the hell would you know…blondie?" Willow retorted, her anger merely playful.

"Because I've met Tara and she is fucking hot – not as hot as Faith of course – but the girl has it going on if you know what I mean. Seriously, if you go a day longer without getting a piece of that, then you're not quite the lesbian I thought you were."

Before Willow could reply indignantly, Xander withdrew a twenty dollar note from his wallet and slapped it down on the table in front of Buffy. "You're on! Twenty bucks says she'll drag it out. However, if by some miracle f it goes down tonight, then you win."

Buffy laughed and snatched up the note, tucking it into her wallet. "I'll look after the money – it'll be mine anyway."

Willow returned to her meal with an intense concentration. She refused to enter into any discussion on the likely outcome of their wager. After she'd scraped up the last of her food, Willow glanced at her watch and was almost relieved to find that she was running slightly late. She had to leave immediately in order to meet Tara and catch their ferry.

"Guys, it's been swell but I have to run," Willow said after she'd put down her knife and fork. "You'll finally be able to talk about me."

"I promise I won't sit here and tell Buffy all of your dirty little secrets," Xander said as she leaned in for a kiss on his cheek.

"He's going to start talking about you as soon as you leave," Buffy pointed out.

Xander grinned. "Why wait at all? Did you know Willow can do fifteen chin-ups?"

"You don't say," Buffy smirked.

"Okay, Xan. I'm leaving," Willow waved him off as she picked up her back pack.

"She hates broccoli," Xander continued. "and when we were in the fifth form, she snogged our gym teacher after Phys-ed class."

"Really, really leaving now!" Willow groaned.

"I also know for a fact that this is the longest you've gone without sex for years so if you miss our session tomorrow morning, I'll know exactly where you are!" Xander called out much too loudly as she walked away from the table. "Don't make me lose my twenty bucks!"

As her cheeks reddened, Willow couldn't deny her secret hope that Tara would invite her to stay over, or vice versa. The thought of slipping such an invitation into a conversation with Tara gave her a slight thrill. She used to issue invitations with such regularity that it had become almost boring. With Tara it was fresh and exciting.

If things went her way, then Xander would be kissing his money goodbye.

* * *

As Willow had feared, she was slightly late. Tara was already perched on a seat near the edge of the wharf. She was dressed in much the same manner as Willow – simple shorts and a t-shirt. Willow smirked as she noticed that Tara's hiking shoes were just as butch as her own.

She approached slowly, taking her time to savour the sight of Tara sitting in the sun. Her blonde hair caught the light in such a way that it appeared to cast a glow around her head. _Xander is so losing his twenty bucks_, Willow thought with tightness in her gut. _Could that woman be any better looking?_

Eventually, as though sensing she were being watched, Tara glanced over her shoulder and saw Willow approaching. The resulting smile caused Willow's heart to do a little somersault.

"Hey you," she said brightly, standing up and hefting her own backpack over her shoulder.

"Hey," Willow replied, amazed how such simple words could carry so much meaning. _Do I kiss her?_ she asked herself as she reached the blonde. _She's my girlfriend – I am definitely supposed to kiss her._

Just as Willow was pondering exactly what kind of kiss would be appropriate in the circumstances, Tara stepped forward and placed a confident hand on the back of Willow's neck. Before Willow could so much as utter a squeak, Tara drew her in close. She paused for a moment - showing her own nervousness - before leaning forward to deliver a sensuous, tender kiss.

It took only moments for Willow to overcome her surprise. She melted into Tara's body. Her own arms moved to embrace Tara, wrapping around her back and snaking upwards. She let her fingers move up over the smooth skin of Tara's neck. A small sigh of delight escaped her lips.

"Ladies!" a voice hollered loudly. Both Tara and Willow drew apart to see one of the ferry's crew waving at them with a grin. "Boat's about to leave – I suggest you continue your hellos on board."

With a slight flush to their cheeks, the pair handed over tickets Tara had purchased while waiting for Willow and boarded the catamaran ferry. Stairs led down to a spacious cabin but they immediately decided to sit up on top where they could enjoy the sunshine and the view.

The deck was a little crowded, but Willow found spot on one of the benches where they could squeeze in. She wrapped one arm around Tara's waist, surprised at how natural the contact felt. When she turned to look at Tara, the blonde was saying hello to a small child sitting on her other side. Willow couldn't help but grin to herself, everything just felt so right.

The ride across the harbour was a noisy one. Children talked animatedly, tourists posed for photos with the expanse of Wellington city in the view behind them. For the most part, Willow was content to sit in silence. She enjoyed the feel of her arm around Tara's back and the way their thighs and knees were pressed together.

"This is absolutely gorgeous," Tara commented a while later. They had docked at Somes Island – a tiny island wildlife sanctuary in the middle of the harbour – to let off some of the passengers.

At least half of the passengers disembarked, leaving Willow and Tara with much more room. They opted to move right to the front of the viewing deck and stood rather than sat.

As the ferry chugged away from the island, Willow and Tara had an unencumbered view of the stretch of harbour between the island and steep, green hills of Eastbourne rising up from the sea. If they continued to look to the right, they would see the gentle curvature of the harbour straightening out towards Pencarrow Head and the entrance to the harbour. Beyond that lay Cook Strait, the expanse of water separating New Zealand's North and South Islands. Cook Strait was known for wild weather and unpredictable winds, often causing hazardous crossings for one of the ferries running between the islands. However, the day couldn't have been a nicer one with very little wind and plenty of sunshine.

Willow decided to rummage in her backpack for her camera. "Picture?" she asked Tara.

The two leaned in close as Willow held out the camera. Tara put her arm around Willow's shoulders and Willow took the picture. She then checked the results on the screen. It was perfect except for Willow's arm ruining the shot.

Tara laughed and took the camera from Willow. She turned to another young couple sitting just behind them. They were only too pleased to take a picture - the results of course being much better. Willow couldn't stop looking at the picture on the screen. It was so simple, just two young women smiling into the camera. However it meant more to her than she could possibly describe. She finally turned the camera off and tucked it back into her bag. Eastbourne was only a short distance away now and in no time at all, they were off the ferry and onto the dock.

Eastbourne was a narrow suburb, restricted on one side by the shoreline and the other by the steep hills. There was a narrow strip of flat land crowded with shops and houses. Many more houses were built up in the hills, amidst the forest.

"This would be a nice place to live," Tara said as they made their way from the dock and across the main road. Many of the houses were modern, with huge windows to take advantage of the sun and the view.

"Yeah, but it would be a bitch to move your stuff in," Willow pointed towards one house reached by only a steep set of stairs. "Do you want to get started straight away or stop for a bite to eat first?" Willow nodded towards a nearby cafe.

"I'm good," Tara replied. "You?"

"I had lunch with Xander and Buffy before meeting you so I'm pretty much full to the brim. In fact, I'm probably far too stuffed to haul my arse up that hill," Willow looked up towards their intended destination. "How about we browse the shops instead?" Eastbourne was known for its quirky art shops frequented by trendy Wellingtonians.

"Are you serious?" Tara asked tentatively. "Because we could..."

Willow shook her head quickly in reply. Browsing the shops did have a certain amount of appeal, but she wanted to be alone with Tara – even if alone meant hauling her arse up a steep hill.

Willow may have been regretting her decision half an hour into their walk. She had to use a small tree to help herself up a particularly large step. As she struggled, she felt a cheeky hand on her arse, pushing her upwards. Tara bounded up after her and they stopped to catch their breath.

"Okay, Buffy told me it was steep but I didn't think she meant so steep that you had to crawl up on all fours." Willow sagged slightly, her breath coming in a steady wheeze. She was also coated in a layer of sweat. Several decidedly unattractive wet patches were appearing on her t-shirt and she could feel a trickle of sweat beads between her breasts.

"We've made pretty good time," Tara replied. "Besides, all the gym work outs and running keep you pretty fit."

"I'm a runner, not a mountain goat." Willow turned to look at the path they had already covered and also the view that lay beyond the trees.

It was undeniably gorgeous. The steep trail had taken them quite high in a relatively short space of time. The houses of Eastbourne looked like tiny models down below. Somes Island and Wellington City were even further in the distance – surrounded by sparkling ocean. The day was hot for early summer, even though the trees only allowed small shafts of sunlight through. Little pools of light were created on the forest floor around them, illuminating the low growing ferns and leaf-covered trail.

"Come on," Tara prodded Willow. "Race you to the top." She moved past Willow and continued up the trail at a quick pace.

Willow wasn't particularly fussed with the idea of a race - however the motivation of walking behind Tara and staring at her arse was enough to get her moving again.

By the time they did reach the top of the ridge, Willow was feeling several conflicting sensations. Given that she had just spent the last fifteen minutes staring at Tara's creamy thighs and the thin fabric of her shorts stretched over her tight arse, she was feeling decidedly turned on. On the down side, she was even sweatier and, despite her thick socks, her feet were developing several blisters in her new hiking boots.

Tara was also a little worse for wear. She could see an unsightly patch of sweat on her chest and suspected that her hair was plastered to her head in an unattractive fashion. It was all she could do to hope that she still looked as good as Willow. Although sweaty, the redhead was glowing. Her slightly pink cheeks only contributed to her beauty.

She found a nearby tree and leant back against it, knowing that if she sat down she would have difficulty standing again. Willow had paused slightly below her on the trail. She was staring out at the view with a pensive expression on her face. A few moments later, she turned and covered the short distance between them with a few quick strides. Before Tara was entirely aware of what was happening, Willow pressed her back hard against the tree and began kissing her intently.

Although surprised, Tara didn't protest – even as she felt Willow's sweaty body press up against her own. Far from being unpleasant, Tara found herself enjoying the feel of the slightly damp body up against her own. It made the moment feel vividly real and alive. She tasted a slight salty tang to Willow's lips. When she moved her hand to the back of Willow's neck and up into her hair, it was damp. That same wet feeling was soon mirrored between her legs as the pressure of Willow's body and lips left her craving a more intimate touch. Instinctively, she pumped her hips forward, grinding her crotch against Willow's thigh. The friction intensified her longing.

Willow responded by wedging her thigh between Tara's legs. She abandoned Tara's lips to trail light kisses down her neck. Tara nestled her head back against the tree and closed her eyes as Willow's lips left a tingling sensation wherever they touched. Moments later, she felt her t-shirt being tugged at and the skin of her stomach felt a rush of air as it was exposed. She opened her eyes and looked down.

"Ah, Will," Tara whispered with alarm as Willow began to inch her shirt up over her stomach and towards her breasts. "We are on a public walking track."

"I know," Willow drew her lips back slightly but kept moving Tara's t-shirt higher. She also intensified the movement of her hips, pumping in a slow rhythm against Tara. Despite the blonde's verbal protest, none of it translated into any attempt to push Willow away. "But you're driving me nuts."

"I'm all sweaty and gross," Tara protested. She gasped as Willow pushed up her bra, exposing one tender parcel of flesh to the air. For a moment she felt a chill – but only for a moment as Willow's mouth closed over her nipple.

Tara let out an exhalation of delight as Willow teased her sensitive flesh. It quickly transformed into a drawn out groan when Willow replaced the thigh pressed against her crotch with her hand. She responded greedily to the pressure of Willow's fingers. For a glorious minute, she allowed herself to get carried away with the idea that she and Willow were going to have sex up against the tree. The months of longing and desire from afar were finally going to be fulfilled.

Then she felt the roughness of the tree's bark against her back. Her boots were slipping slightly as she struggled to keep her jelly-like legs from giving out beneath her. She opened her eyes and looked at Willow, still intently caressing her breast. More than anything, she wanted to be with Willow and sex up against a tree would have been nothing short of hot. However, she knew it wasn't right for their first time together as girlfriends.

"Will," she whispered reluctantly.

"Yeah?" Willow paused in her ministrations and looked up at Tara. Her lips were slightly swollen and they were curled up into a grin.

"We can't do this here," she offered quietly.

"Sure we can. I even have instant hand sanitizer in my bag," Willow replied, her grin growing larger for a few moments. However, she eventually straightened up with a sigh. "I know, I'd hate to have to stop just because someone was coming along the track."

She reached out and gently tugged Tara's bra back down over her breasts. Her t-shirt followed a moment later.

Tara clasped Willow's cheeks in her hands. "You are incredibly sexy, hot and entirely fuckable. I don't want to presume anything, but when we do eventually do this, I want to be able to see all of you – to feel your skin pressed against mine. These clothes in the way-"Tara tugged at Willow's t-shirt "-just spoil the view."

"Well, if that's the problem..." with one swift moment, Willow removed the offending t-shirt. She drew it up over her head and tossed it to the ground. Then, as Tara stared in a pleasant state of shock, she deftly unhooked her bra and let it join her t-shirt on the ground.

"Oh god, Willow, you are incorrigible," Tara whispered as she was instantly drawn to lay her hands on Willow's smooth flesh. She trailed her fingers up over Willow's abs to her breasts. She then cupped one in each hand, massaging and kneading them between her fingers.

"I am rather naughty aren't I?" Willow winked. "What do you say to taking this off the trail and finding a nice little patch of mossy ground where we can get naked?"

"Don't tempt me, Willow, or you might just find yourself in trouble..." Tara paused as she thought she heard a sound other than birds and her own hoarse breaths. A few seconds later, her fears were confirmed as a man's voice reached her ears. It was followed by a child's laugh. "What do you say to putting your top back on - really quickly."

At this point, Willow had heard the voices too. With her green eyes wide, she scrambled to grab her bra and t-shirt. The bra and t-shirt were tugged on in the nick of time. Just a second or so later, the women saw a child's head come into view as he scrambled up the path. The boy was followed by a girl hard on his heels and then their parents following at a more sedate pace.

"Lovely day isn't it?" the man called out to them.

"It sure is," Tara replied, hoping her cheeks weren't too red. She glanced across at Willow to see her trying to calm her rapid breathing by taking deep breaths.

"I can definitely understand why you would want to take a break," the woman said as she paused for a moment. "This is hard work."

Their two children were continuing to scramble up the path ahead. "Wouldn't you love to have their energy?" Tara commented.

"At least this will wear them out," their mother replied. "Hey guys, don't get too far ahead!"

"You and Dad are too slow!" the boy called back over his shoulder.

Their parents took this as a sign to get moving again. The man reached out and took his wife's hand in his own. "Enjoy the rest of your walk, girls," he said.

Willow and Tara smiled and waved the family off. As soon as they had disappeared, Willow let out a sigh of relief. "That was close. Poor kid almost had a view of something he shouldn't be seeing for at least another decade."

Tara laughed. "Plus they're spoken for. Want me to do your bra up?"

"Yes please," Willow hiked her t-shirt up so Tara could do up the clasp.

Properly attired, Willow and Tara continued their way along the track. Willow's heart was soon racing again, but this time from exertion rather sexual excitement. The rest of the hike passed with more spectacular views as they walked along the top of the ridge and several more buckets of sweat. It was too rather exhausted young women that emerged from the bush clad hills a few hours later.

They were waiting for the ferry as it chugged slowly beside the wharf. Instead of travelling up on the top deck as they had done on the way over, Tara suggested they sit in the main cabin instead. There they would have comfortable seats out of the wind.

As soon as she sat back into the seat, Willow felt suddenly weary. While the hike had been taxing, she hadn't felt overly tired at any stage. Now, in the ferry's cabin, she found the constant hum of the motor lulling her towards sleep. She stifled a yawn and tried to concentrate on looking past Tara, who was sitting by the window, and out at the blue sea beyond. However, as the ferry left the wharf and slowly picked up speed as it raced across the harbour back towards Wellington, she felt her eyes grow heavier.

Tara had to agree that the day had been almost perfect. The weather had been kind, with the wind only picking up at the end of the day. The hike had been well worth the effort, despite her aching thigh muscles and Willow's blisters. She could not have wished for better company. Her only regret from the day had been the sudden interruption to their make-out session. A session that Tara knew would have led to even naughtier antics up against the tree if they had not been interrupted. She cursed the fact that the track was so popular and that they had not thought to find a more secluded spot for their frolicking.

Still, as she turned to look at Willow, Tara hoped that they would have plenty of time for sex in the outdoors and other public places. She smiled at the redhead and Willow managed a tired one in return. Tara had only returned to looking out the window for a minute or two when she felt a soft weight on her shoulder. She glanced down and saw that Willow had succumbed to exhaustion, falling into a deep slumber. Her cheek was pressed against Tara's shoulder and the strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail had fallen forward over her face. Trying her best not to disturb the sleeping redhead, Tara shifted slightly so she could lift her arm around Willow's shoulders and make her more comfortable. The sunlight reflecting off the waters of the harbour no longer held any interest; she spent the whole journey studying the face that was tucked up against her. Without a doubt, Willow's creamy skin, delicate lips and eyelashes resting on her cheeks, were every bit as beautiful as what lay out the window.

Willow woke as soon as the rumble of the ferry changed as they slowed down nearing the harbour. She jerked up as though wondering where she was for a moment. When she saw Tara's comforting smile, everything was fine. She did however glance at Tara's shoulder to check she hadn't drooled on it.

"Good sleep?" Tara asked, removing her arm from where it had been comfortably wrapped around Willow's shoulders.

Willow straightened and indulged in a discreet mini-stretch. She then rubbed at her neck as though it was stiff. "Yeah, I can't believe I just drifted off like that. Sorry, you should have woken me instead of letting me snore on your shoulder."

"What are girlfriends for?" Tara reached out and brushed several strands of hair out of Willow's face. "Besides, you didn't snore a bit."

"Did I sleep talk then? I do have this habit of saying really nonsensical crap while I'm asleep."

Tara shook her head with a grin. She remembered Willow's early morning babbling from the one time she had woken up next to her. "No sleep-talking either."

As they disembarked, Tara suggested that they share a taxi instead of walking to their respective apartments. She felt slightly guilty at her ulterior motive of sharing just so she could get Willow to her apartment. However, knowing the redhead like she did, she suspected that Willow would not mind at all.

The taxi ride passed in relative but comfortable silence. Neither Willow nor Tara felt the need to speak to add superfluous noise to the end of a wonderful day. Willow simply reached across the back seat and wrapped her fingers around Tara's. The contact said more than whole sentences.

When they taxi drew to a halt outside Tara's apartment building, she looked across and saw the disappointed expression on Willow's face. The redhead clearly expected their day together to be over.

"It's almost dinner time. I don't think I have much more than pasta or soup but you're welcome to come up," Tara suggested.

"Sure," Willow replied as nonchalantly as possible. The speed with which she paid the driver and exited the taxi were a better indication of what she thought of Tara's idea.

However, as she climbed out of the taxi, Tara wondered if she was moving a little fast. Then she only had to remember the way she felt a few hours earlier, and just how ready she had been for Willow then. She had spent almost five months wanting Willow; there was no sense in prolonging it any further. The taxi pulled away from the curb, there was no going back.

"Are you sure you want me to come up?" Willow asked hopefully.

"Do you want to come up?"

"Is Angelina Jolie hot?" was Willow's immediate answer. "Of course I do."

"It's settled then," Tara said as she reached for Willow's hand. She hoped her palm wasn't too sweaty. "You're coming up."

"Of course, nothing has to happen," Willow quickly added as Tara led her inside. "We can just talk, or have coffee. Movies are good too. I think Resident Evil is on TV tonight, while I think the sequel is actually better, it's still a pretty good time with Michelle and Mila kicking butt…if you're into that kind of thing…"

"Willow?"

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and come inside."


	20. And on my lips

**~ Chapter 20~**

**and on my lips impressed a lingering kiss**

Willow couldn't help but feel a slight thrill as she stepped across the threshold into Tara's apartment. In her mind, 'Tara's apartment' had nothing to do with a physical set of rooms. Instead, it signified an unobtainable goal – Tara herself.

As Willow entered, she discreetly took in her first impressions of Tara's home. Unlike her own spacious Oriental Bay apartment, it was a little small and pokey. The front door led straight into the main living area with the kitchen tucked into one corner. The interior wasn't at all stylish. 'House and Garden' magazine would say that the colour scheme was out of date. The furniture was an eclectic mix-mash of pieces, some new and some not so new.

Despite this – or because of it - Willow immediately felt a comfortable vibe. The floors were a handsome polished wood, scattered with brightly coloured rugs. As Willow would have expected, one wall was entirely devoted to shelving - full to the brim with all manner of reading material. Instead of the high-priced artworks that decorated the walls of her apartment, there were framed posters. Willow studied one that looked familiar and realised that it was an enlargement one of Tara's book covers.

When she heard Tara close the door behind her, she forced herself to stop gawking. It wasn't difficult to turn at stare at the blonde instead.

"Your place is really cool," Willow commented sincerely. She was being entirely honest. Tara's place was warm, inviting and - most importantly – it had Tara in it.

"That's awfully nice of you to say so, Willow," Tara said as she smiled wryly as she bent over to undo the laces on her boots. "However compared to your place, it's a dive."

"My place is a sterile box with a nice view – your place is you," Willow replied with a shrug.

She found herself fascinated by the simplest of movements Tara made – stripping her dirty boots off at the door, placing her bag down on the dining table. It was then that Willow glanced down at her own feet and realised she had tramped right into Tara's apartment in her muddy boots. She winced apologetically and tiptoed back to the door to strip them off.

A few moments later, in her bare feet, she found herself standing in front of Tara. She had a million thoughts running through her mind as to her next move, but she couldn't decide on one of them.

"So," she spoke for the sake of filling the silence that had descended on them.

"So," Tara repeated, suddenly feeling quite shy now that she had Willow in private.

She glanced down at herself and immediately noticed her dishevelled clothing and the smudges of dirt on her lower legs. Standing opposite her, Willow was no better off. There was even a small graze on her knee.

"You hurt yourself," Tara indicated Willow's knee with a small nod of her head. At no point during the day had she seen Willow fall and she felt a little guilty. It probably meant that she had been staring at Willow's face, tits and arse as opposed to her rather skinny little knee.

Willow glanced down and took a look at the rather ugly blemish on her otherwise perfect knee. She remembered tripping and falling. At some point during the walk she had been far too busy staring at the way Tara's shorts clung to her arse and she'd tripped over a root. Obviously she'd been so delirious with lust at the time, that she hadn't noticed the resulting graze. She made a dismissive shrug. It really was only a little scrape – although now that Tara had pointed it out, she could feel it smarting slightly. Also, the dried blood mixed with dirt was rather unsightly.

"I'm sure I've got something to clean it up with," Tara said as she moved past Willow and towards her bathroom.

"Seriously, it's nothing," Willow protested. Tara's arm lightly brushed hers as she moved by and she felt an electric tingle throughout her entire body.

Tara emerged from the bathroom a moment later armed with band-aids, cotton wool and a small bottle of Dettol that looked as though it had been in the cupboard for at least a decade. Business-like, she prodded Willow towards the kitchen table and made her sit down.

"I don't get many grazes – not owing a skateboard or anything else that could propel me towards the ground at speed," Tara apologised as she opened the ancient bottle. "But I don't think Dettol has an expiry date."

With Willow swivelled in the chair to face her, her wounded leg sticking out, Tara knelt on the floor. She glanced up and saw Willow looking down at her with exactly the same expression she imagined was on her face. It was an odd combination of anticipation, exhaustion and nerves. Concentrating on the task at hand instead of what might happen later, Tara gently up-ended a small amount onto the cotton wool and, without any warning, pressed it against Willow's graze.

Willow winced and hissed through her teeth as the antiseptic stung. "Well, it's lost none of its potency!"

"Sorry about that," Tara winced in sympathy. "I always thought it was best to do it quickly."

"At least I've got something distracting to look at while you torture me," Willow said as she watched Tara gently clean her knee.

When Tara glanced back up, she found Willow still looking down at her with the same expression on her face – although there was now a cheeky grin playing across her lips. It was infectious and she responded with a quick one of her own - just a slight tug at the corners of her lips. She intended to finish the task at hand, however found herself unable to draw her eyes away from Willow's. The grin disappeared from the redhead's face, replaced by an earnest, hopeful expression that told Tara exactly what she needed to do. The bottle of Dettol and cotton wool fell from her hands as she stood abruptly. The remainder of the antiseptic spilled out onto the floorboards at her feet but she didn't care as she grabbed Willow by the front of her t-shirt and encouraged her to her feet with a rude tug.

Willow didn't mind in the slightest at Tara's sudden shift from nurse to seductress. She responded to her kiss immediately, with just as much hunger of her own. They quickly matched the same intensity that they had felt earlier that day in Eastbourne. With no possibility of being interrupted, Willow and Tara found themselves able to express the full extent of their need for one another.

In the midst of the kiss, their hands went to each other's t-shirts at exactly the same moment. Their arms became entangled as they continued kissing while trying to remove clothing. Giggles and snorts of laughter punctuated the kiss as Willow became stuck with one arm sandwiched awkwardly and the other still trying to reach out and lift Tara's shirt over her head. Eventually, with some reluctance, they broke apart long enough to strip the offending garments off. Each tackled their own shirt for the sake of expediency. Moments later, they found each other's lips again. As the intensity of the kiss shifted from an intense duel to a more passionate dance, their hands roamed over bare skin.

Willow traced a path down between Tara's breasts using just the lightest touch of the pads of her fingers. She continued down over Tara's stomach in a snaking movement. Eventually her fingers came to rest on the waist of Tara's shorts. When Tara ground her hips forward against her thigh, Willow deftly undid the button and zip. With a quick tug downwards, the shorts fell to pool at Tara's feet. Willow cupped Tara's arse cheeks in her hands and drew her in closer.

Willow gently broke the kiss. She lowered her head to nuzzle at Tara's neck for a moment before whispering in her ear, "Please tell me if you need slow? This can go wherever you want it to go."

"Yes…and no. God…Will, everyone and everything is telling me to go slow - everything except…" Tara's voice trailed off as Willow continued to trail kisses up her neck.

Continuing to kiss Tara's soft skin, Willow smoothly slid one hand beneath the elastic of Tara's underwear. Her fingers roamed over her wiry curls to pry open the folds of her sex. In a second she slid two fingers past the moist outer folds and up into her cunt. It was already wet. Tara let out a harsh grunt and thrust her hips forward insistently.

"Everything except this," Willow leaned in closer to Tara's ear and ground her hand forward to tease her further with just a hint of friction. "And this is all that matters."

As Willow buried her fingers deep inside her, Tara felt her legs grow weak beneath her to the point where she feared they could no longer support her weight. She heard a drawn out moan emerge from her throat – a sound she had no control over. The guttural cries came from somewhere deep within herself – almost as though a primal, pent-up longing was finally being released.

Months of longing to be with Willow had finally come to an end. Now Willow well and truly had her at her mercy. Her resistance crumbled a little more each time Willow drove her finger upwards.

As she shifted her foot slightly to find a better position, her sock slipped in the spilt Dettol. She sagged suddenly and Willow lost her rhythm. Gently, she withdrew her finger.

"Are you alright?" Willow asked as supported the blonde in her arms and helped her stand up straight once again. "Sorry…I take that as a definite sign to slow things down a little."

"It was my fault," Tara looked down at the pool of antiseptic that had almost been her undoing. "I shouldn't have been so careless."

"You have paper towels? I can clean it up in a jiffy," Willow offered helpfully.

Tara smirked at Willow's words. "What would you rather do – clean up spilt Dettol or accompany your hot girlfriend into a hot shower?"

"Oooh, the second one!" Willow replied quickly. She pressed her lips against Tara's for a long moment before drawing back to nuzzle her nose. "And yes, you are hot."

"Hot for you," was Tara's playful retort. She disentangled herself from Willow's arms and took her by the hand to lead her to the bathroom.

Tara's bathroom was proportioned to fit the rest of her apartment – it was decidedly small. When she shut the door behind Willow, she practically had to stand in the redhead's arms. Not that she minded. They entwined once again for another slow kiss. This time, their disrobing was done at a more sedate pace – one that didn't involve flailing, uncoordinated limbs. Willow once again had the opportunity to get up, close and personal with Tara's breasts – this time without having to hold her bra out of the way. Tara had to pry her away from touching them long enough to drag her into the shower cubicle and beneath the stream of hot water.

The steaming, almost searing jet of water was enough to distract Willow momentarily. She closed her eyes and tilted her face upwards, letting it flow over her face to wash away the saltiness of dried sweat. She then felt the softness of Tara's hands massaging a fragrant body wash over her limbs.

Although the shower was undeniably pleasant and Tara's hands moved in a sensual manner, Willow also felt that she was in a hurry. It wasn't difficult to guess the motivation behind Tara's haste. She felt it too – the need to get Tara into a bed for the first time since that fateful meeting. Willow wanted to throw Tara down on her back, and be thrown herself in return. To feel the power that came from being atop someone, and the thrill of submitting to someone else atop her – their weight pressing down.

"I'm clean. You clean?" Willow asked breathlessly, moments after Tara's hands had thoroughly cleaned between her legs. She wanted that contact back and it was driving her crazy.

"Clean," Tara responded just as promptly.

With the water shut off and no reason to linger, Willow and Tara shared the single towel on the rack. The mutual drying lasted mere seconds before it turned into stroking and pawing. Forgotten, the towel fell to the floor.

Drops of water still clung to both their bodies, but neither cared enough to waste the time it took to dry more thoroughly. Entwined together, kissing furiously, Tara led the way to her bedroom. In the tiny part of her mind that was still thinking coherently, Tara strove to remember whether she had made her bed that morning. Her question was answered when the pair of them tumbled onto her perfectly turned out bed. Her cheeks coloured when she remembered that she had gone to extra effort for this very eventuality. She wasn't normally one to make assumptions, but with Willow everything now felt so right.

Tara let out a yelp of surprise when Willow firmly forced her onto her back. She found her arms pinned above her head and a thigh wedged between her own. The yelp quickly became a growl of need as Willow ground her thigh against her sex. In turn, she felt Willow's wiry curls against her skin. Above her, the redhead grinned mischievously. Tara found herself without the strength or the desire to try and reverse their positions. She allowed Willow's body weight to press her down into the bed. As they kissed, she let her head relax against the pillows behind her.

"Too fast for you?" Willow asked in a whisper as her fingers found one of Tara's breasts. Her hips continued to grind forward against Tara as she sensed how desperately the blonde needed the friction.

Tara stared up into Willow's eyes. That same mischief was still there – twinkling. However there was a softness that had been missing from their first time together. She reached up and laid a gentle hand on Willow's cheek, caressing the soft skin with a gentle touch. "Too slow," she replied in a mischievous voice of her own. "We've all night to do slow, right now I need you inside me."

"I think I can oblige," Willow replied. She ducked her head and tasted Tara's mouth hungrily, seeking out the delicious depths. She sucked deeply on Tara's tongue, stroking it with her own. Beneath her, she felt the blonde shiver with delight.

Willow drew back slowly, Tara protested at losing the taste of Willow's lips with a slight whimper. She smirked in response and slowly drew her hands away from Tara's. Willow sat up and swung her leg over Tara so she was straddling her hips. She then gazed down at Tara lying beneath her, hands above her head, beautiful breasts standing proud in the fading light of early evening.

Her breath caught in her throat as she tentatively caressed Tara's face with feathery strokes. She brushed her fingers over Tara's pale forehead, down over her nose and up across her cheekbones. As she traced her jaw line she lowered herself for another kiss. Tara met her lips desperately for a few moments – their tongues danced and duelled fiercely before Willow drew back. She resumed tracing her fingers over Tara's skin, leaving her face to move her shoulders to her upper arms and back up again. The pads of her fingers traced over the sharpness of her collarbone and the pale skin between her breasts before finally taking a handful of breast with each hand. She massaged them - gently at first but continuing to increase in tempo and pressure until Tara's nipples were swollen and red. It was then that Willow lent forward and brought her mouth down on top of the right breast first. Willow began working it over in her mouth, taking as much as she could in and sucking fiercely. Beneath her, Tara gasped. Willow continued to tease Tara's nipple with her tongue, rolling it around gently before biting on it. She was encouraged by the sounds issuing from Tara's throat.

Willow shifted slightly and performed the same service for the other breast. It was nothing short of heavenly, feeling the softness of Tara's flesh in her mouth. Her hand continued to work on the other mercilessly.

Slowly, as she sensed Tara's growing impatience, she ceased her ministrations of her breasts to lay a trail of kisses down over her belly to her navel. Her tongue left a trail of moisture everywhere she went. As her mouth worked, she scooted backwards and wedged her thighs between Tara's, levering them apart so she could lie between them as she continued to move downwards.

With Tara's legs spread wide in front of her face, Willow could smell the sweet aroma of her desire. Slowly, Willow kissed the honey coloured curls on the top of Tara's mound. The blonde jumped slightly beneath her touch. She moved downwards, lowered her head until she was between Tara's thighs. So very close to her intended destination and yet she continued to tease Tara by holding back slightly. Willow was just as impatient as her girlfriend. She had to force herself to move slowly - taking the time to kiss the insides of Tara's thighs and run her tongue over them slowly. Finally she brought both hands up to Tara's sex and spread her lips back tenderly.

"Oh god," Willow whispered in anticipation. She had never wanted a woman so much in her life. The moment was not only the fulfilment of her greatest desire, it was full of promise of more such moments to come.

"Willow…please…" Tara's eyes were closed, her mouth parted in longing. Willow had teased her for too long and she was crying out for release.

Willow obliged by dipping her head into the wonderful warmth. She just breathed in Tara's scent for a few moments before finally caressing her sex in one long, languid stroke of her tongue. Beneath her, she felt Tara's entire body jolt as though hit with an electric shock. Tara's head thrashed back against the pillow and she cried out. Willow made each stroke an exploration - a new and unique experience in itself.

She had been avoiding concentrating singly on Tara's clit at first, content to explore everywhere else around it. Tara's hips moved beneath her insistently. Willow finally gave in and focused her attention on Tara's hard, erect nub. She began teasing it with her tongue, rolling it between her lips, nipping ever so gently with her teeth. Willow never wanted it to end and at the same time she wanted to bring Tara to the release she craved.

As her tongue worked Tara's clit over, she moved one of her hands to tease Tara's moist opening. She suddenly thrust two fingers upwards. Tara cried out and bucked her hips forward to meet Willow's fingers as she forced them in as far as they would go. Fingers and tongue both worked frantically as Tara bucked beneath her. The cries coming from her throat became increasingly raw and urgent. Her hands had left their spot above her head and were now tangled in Willow's hair, forcing her head down harder.

"Oh god, Willow!" she cried out – finally managing to form coherent words instead of sounds. She kept pumping her hips forward instinctively, over and over. "Fuck...I'm going to come!"

Suddenly she came. Tara was crying out Willow's name for the last time in one long, drawn out moan as her back arched from the bed. The walls of her passage spasmed around Willow's fingers as she stroked a few more times before concentrating solely on licking up every last drop of moisture spilling from her lover.

After what seemed like forever, Tara finally came back to earth. Her body relaxed and she became aware of her surroundings once again - the softness of the bed beneath her and Willow's weight between her legs. Her fingers were still resting inside her. A few moments later, she felt Willow withdraw them gently so she could crawl up her body to lie atop her once again.

Willow laid her arm across Tara's chest and propped her chin up on it. Tara stared back at her. She brought trembling fingers up to trace Willow's swollen, moist lips. Eventually, she took hold of Willow's chin and drew her downwards to taste herself on those lips. She kissed the redhead lazily – as though they had all the time in the world.

As her heart rate settled into something resembling a steady pace, Tara deepened the kiss. She signalled her nefarious intentions by wriggling partially out from beneath Willow's body – enough to be able to throw her leg over her lover's.

Willow didn't resist as Tara swiftly rolled her over, switching their positions. She ran her hands up the blonde's spine. Her skin was slightly damp with sweat. Her hands continued to rove downwards until she could cup Tara's arse cheeks in her hands. She squeezed the delicious flesh and kept Tara firmly against her for a moment. When she released her, Tara was free to roam her body with her lips – starting with a trail of kisses down her neck. Her fingers found Tara's hair and she let its silky strands slide through them.

Tara continued kissing her. She explored her breasts and stomach with strokes of her tongue. Everywhere she left a trail of fire in her wake, as well as glistening saliva. Willow's head pressed back into the pillow and her hands clutched at the bed sheets beneath her. She balled the fabric up in her tightly clenched fists as her breath came hard and fast with anticipation.

Then Tara moved her legs apart, spreading them with a gentle touch on the inside of her thighs. Willow clenched her teeth as Tara's breath fell fast and heavy on her exposed sex. It was so close to what she needed. A small moan escaped her lips as she tried to remain patient and wait for Tara to make the move. It was a futile endeavour - a second later she reached out to press Tara's head between her legs.

With trembling hands, Tara spread Willow's folds open. A low moan from Willow followed her touch. She flicked her tongue over Willow's warm sex, nervous at first but growing bolder with each taste. Willow moaned again - this time even louder.

Willow lifted her head slightly from the pillow and gazed at the blonde hair fanned out over her stomach. She watched Tara's head bob rhythmically as she explored her soaking wet sex. Her movements still felt tentative and hesitant, her tongue darting everywhere at once as though she was not sure just where to put it but still drove Willow crazy. With gentle hands she guided Tara's head, she cried out when the blonde began teasing the hard nub at her core.

It was then that she let her head sink back into pillow and eyes closed. She kept her hands lightly on Tara's head but only to feel an additional point of contact with her lover. Willow became detached from the rest of the physical world and lost herself in a place where just she and Tara existed. The only sounds she could hear were her own cries as Tara's tongue drove her to a deliciously sweet climax.

As she slowly came down from the throes of passion, Willow felt Tara's weight shift. The blonde crawled up her body until she lay along Willow's length. Their breasts were pressed together and Tara's leg nestled between Willow's sweaty, damp thighs.

Willow grinned and rubbed her cheek against Tara's. "Mmmmm," was the only sound she could manage for the moment.

Tara claimed another kiss and brushed a few sweaty strands of hair out of Willow's face. "How do you feel?" she asked tentatively.

"Like I could fuck you all night," Willow whispered throatily in Tara's ear.

Tara lifted her eyebrows slightly in pleasant surprise. "Is that an offer?"

"Yes – and a challenge," was the cheeky response. "Can you keep up with me?"

The expression in Tara's eyes said everything - she was determined to spend the rest of the night proving that she could.

* * *

In the morning Willow woke up from the best dream she had ever had – that was until she rolled over to find Tara staring at her and realised that it was no dream. For almost a minute, she just lay staring into the gorgeous blue of Tara's eyes. It was like staring out the window of her apartment at Wellington Harbour on a sunny day...only even better. Eventually she grinned – a grin that broadened as she remembered the night before in vivid detail.

Tara looked anxious, as though she thought Willow might be teasing her about something. "Do I have bed-hair or drool on my chin?"

Willow shook her head for a moment, then changed her mind and nodded. "You do have bed-hair, but I think it can't be any worse than mine...but that's not what I was smiling at."

"What then?" The anxiety disappeared from Tara's face, replaced by a look of utter contentment.

"You, Ms Maclay, are a nympho," Willow announced happily.

"Hello, pot calling kettle!" was Tara's playful retort. She reached out and began to tickle Willow's ribs mercilessly.

The redhead squirmed for a moment, but then decided that her best course of action was to roll atop Tara and pin her arms above her head – much as she had done the previous night. As retaliation for the tickle-attack, she lowered her lips to Tara's neck and set about making the most ridiculously huge hickey she could manage.

Tara quickly realised what Willow was doing and yelped in protest. "Will!"

She wriggled one wrist free and began tickling again. Willow couldn't resist and in moments she was curled up in a tiny ball. It was only after she promised to behave herself that Tara stopped.

Willow sat up and eyed Tara warily lest she try anything funny.

Tara laughed – it was surprising just how easily she laughed around the redhead. It seemed like yesterday that she couldn't manage to be in the same room as Willow without breaking out into a cold sweat and some sort of disaster happening. "What now? You hungry?"

"Well, we could always have bacon and eggs in bed?" Willow suggested as she grinned mischievously. She scooted back across the bed to Tara and leaned in to nibble on one of her nipples. She pulled back just as she heard Tara's breathing grow slightly hoarse. "With a side of breasts."

"These-" Tara began sternly as she cupped her breasts "-aren't a side dish."

Willow matched Tara's serious expression with one of her own. "You're right, they're definitely the main course."

Before either of them could stop themselves, they were entwined once again – limbs and lips. Their bodies fell back down amongst the sheets. Willow wrapped her fingers around Tara's breast and teased the already engorged nipple firmly. After a few moments, she turned her attention to the second and Tara shifted slightly so she could access it.

Tara's own fingers were searching between Willow's legs. It didn't take long. She had become intimately familiar with the warmth between her legs during the night. Her hand wandered over Willow's pubic hair and slipped into her slit. There she matched what Willow was doing to her breasts – only with Willow's clit instead. The redhead bucked slightly and thrust her hips.

Their kiss deepened for a second before Willow had to break off for a deep gasp of air. "Fuck, Tara!"

Tara ran her lips over Willow's neck and up over her cheek, she licked her salty skin. "I want you wet for me," she whispered in her ear.

She stroked with an ever increasing tempo. Eventually Willow's hands fell from her breasts and clutched at her back. Her eyes closed. Tara ignored the slight pain when her nails dug into her flesh.

"Oh fuck...mmmmrrrpfff!" Willow's let out an unintelligible cry. She was only a minute away from coming when Tara ceased her stroking. Her hand remained cupping her hot sex.

Willow could hear her breathing coming in ragged gasps. Her hips continued to pump slightly as she created her own friction. She opened her eyes and saw Tara staring at her. Her lips were trembling slightly. Her own need scared her. She felt vulnerable when she realised just how much power Tara had over her.

"Will?" Tara said gently, she pressed a kiss to Willow's lips.

"Yeah?" Willow swallowed.

"Can I have your hand?"

Willow held out her hand. Tara took it with her free hand. With a saucy glint in her eyes, she popped Willow's index finger into her mouth and sucked on it for a few seconds. When she drew it out, she guided it downwards, between her own legs. Willow didn't need any further guidance as she sought out Tara's cunt. With a gentle thrust, she drove it upwards. Tara was hot and already wet.

"I'm wet for you, Willow," Tara whispered in Willow's ear as she resumed her movements. Eventually, she slipped her finger up inside Willow and was rewarded with a sudden gasp. Willow was now just as wet.

"You are a nympho," Willow hissed through her teeth. She slowly began to move finger in slow jerks, loving the feeling of closeness that their lovemaking brought.

"Shut up and fuck me," Tara replied.

"And demanding too!" Willow gasped as Tara drove her finger upwards with the weight of her body behind her.

Tara laughed and then silenced the redhead before she could comment further. She kissed her deeply and passionately as she moved faster and faster.

Together, they matched their strokes, a rhythm that felt so right. At some point, they ceased kissing. Tara was whimpering softly while Willow was more vocal, her cries were a beautiful sound filling Tara's ears, becoming more and more urgent as they rocked together.

Tara came slightly earlier than Willow. As her cries became uncontrollable, she had to force herself to keep pumping her finger despite the fact that she just wanted to give herself over completely to her climax. It only took seconds and she felt the warmth of Willow's cunt suddenly spasm in her hand, accompanied by a sudden hiss of air through Willow's clenched teeth. To silence her own cries before she could bring the neighbours knocking, Tara pressed her lips to Willow's desperately. Eventually they fell still and silent, hands still resting between damp thighs.

In the post-coital silence, Willow's stomach let out an angry protest. It reminded her that she actually hadn't eaten anything substantial since brunch the day before. Although loaded with carbs, trail snacks didn't exactly make a decent meal. A second, even more insistent rumble immediately followed the first.

"Breakfast then?" Tara asked, teasing Willow by tickling her naked belly.

"I think so," Willow decided reluctantly. Although she was hungry, she found it hard to imagine peeling herself away from Tara's deliciously warm body. To make things even harder for herself, she lowered her head and nuzzled even further into the delicious flesh. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the pleasant aroma of sex that clung to Tara's skin. A few seconds later, her stomach protested again. It was followed by a matching one from Tara.

Tara sighed – as much as she wanted to stay exactly where she was, they both needed to eat. She solved Willow's dilemma by making the decisive move. She gently extracted herself from the firm grip of the redhead and made a quick exit from the bed – as though she too found it difficult to get up.

Willow watched Tara climb out of bed, stretching her limbs as she did. She let out a sigh of disappointment when Tara pulled on a short robe to cover her body.

At the rather adorable sound, Tara looked back over her shoulder with apologetic smirk. "Sorry Willow, I wanted to open the curtains and let the sun in – while I enjoy having you ogle me, I don't feel the same way about people in neighbouring buildings."

"Point taken," Willow replied with pride in her voice. As gorgeous as her girlfriend was, she didn't want anyone else admiring her naked curves.

With a slight yawn, Willow dragged herself into a sitting position. When Tara left the bedroom, with a last grin over her shoulder, she rolled off the bed. Her clothes were still in a pile on the bathroom floor. After a quick search, she dragged her cell phone out of the pocket of her shorts.

She returned to the bed and snuggled beneath the covers as she punched up her contacts and dialled the one she wanted.

After only a few rings, someone answered in a decidedly grumpy voice. "You're five minutes late, Will."

"I have to apologise for two things, Xan," Willow said apologetically. "I'm skipping my session…and you lost your twenty bucks."


	21. I Fall upon the thorns of life

**~ Chapter 21 ~**

**I Fall upon the thorns of life**

As was typical of a Monday morning, Willow had a small mountain of tedious work to wade through. Most of it required little brain power and could be done with a coffee in one hand with her other hand absently guiding her mouse. However, as hard as she tried to concentrate on the simple task at hand, she couldn't ignore the shape looming in the corner of her vision. It had been there ever since she walked into her office and it refused to leave. Willow focused harder, treating the most mundane emails as though they were a matter of life and death. Then the shape made a noise, following by a succession of annoying, repetitive sounds. She shut her eyes and willed her nemesis to go away. It was inevitable that the continuous noise would eventually cause her to snap. She spun in her chair and faced the source of her frustration. Buffy Summers, who no doubt had important work of her own waiting for her, was perched casually on the corner of Willow's desk. She held a single twenty dollar note between her hands. To celebrate the fact that Willow was finally paying her attention, she snapped the note again. There was a smug expression of satisfaction on her face.

"And that is the sound of victory!" Buffy announced, snapping it yet again for good measure.

"It's twenty bucks," Willow reminded her in a flat tone, reiterating the relatively meagre sum.

Buffy wasn't perturbed by Willow's spoilsport attitude. "It's twenty bucks that I won! I can taste my victory lunch already. This little sucker is going to buy me a caesar chicken salad, a diet coke...and just to completely ruin the salad and the diet coke, a great big piece of ginger crunch."

"Woah, don't go overboard there, Buff," Willow smirked.

Buffy reached out and patted Willow on the head in a congratulatory manner. "It's all thanks to the fact that you are a sexual dynamo. I knew Tara wouldn't be able to resist you. Not to mention the fact that you couldn't have kept your hands off those awesome boobs of hers for much longer."

"Hey! That's my girlfriend you're talking about!" Willow protested indignantly.

"Sorry, Will," Buffy said as she finally hopped down from Willow's desk and returned to her own. "But you have to admit that your girlfriend has a damn fine rack."

"I will admit that," Willow conceded. She immediately received several incredibly naughty mental pictures when thinking about Tara's breasts and her burgeoning relationship with them. "Are they as nice as Faith's?"

The last comment was all that was needed to effectively silence Buffy. The blonde muttered something to the effect of 'I wouldn't know' and turned her attention to her own work. A relieved Willow turned her attention back to her emails and her coffee. Her renewed focus lasted barely a minute before her mind wandered back to her naughty thoughts. She had a burning desire to call Tara but knew without a doubt that making a call would fuel Buffy's teasing. Drawing in a deep breath, Willow resolved to concentrate on her work until morning tea, at which time she would sneak out of the office and call Tara. A quick glance at the time revealed over an hour and a half for her to wait.

_I can do this_, Willow thought with a grimace of determination. _I can't go calling her every five minutes just because I want to hear her voice...hearing her voice will only lead to further naughty thoughts. Fuck it, if I take a taxi I can be at Tara's apartment in less than ten minutes. What are lunch breaks for other than to go and have a quickie with your girlfriend?_

* * *

It took Tara much longer than usual to settle into a gentle rhythm with her running stride. Her limbs felt leaden and her breath came in ragged gasps. She could only glance across to Faith and envy her effortless, loping gait. The reason for her fatigue was painfully obvious. Following a rather energetic evening with Willow, she'd had barely four hours of sleep before dragging herself out of bed for a long meeting with Bridget and her accountant. This was on top of an equally pathetic amount of sleep the night before and a brief but heated encounter at lunchtime on Monday. Tara smirked when she remembered how a breathless Willow had turned up at her apartment and practically thrown herself at her as soon as the door had been opened. It was one lunch break where no actual lunch had been consumed and yet neither woman had walked away hungry.

"Want to pick up the pace a bit, T?" Faith's suggestion interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Tara wheezed.

"Yeah, you're slowing me down with your half-arsed plodding," Faith further emphasised her point by turning around and running backwards. She easily kept pace with Tara. "We're being passed by people pushing their kids in strollers, it's embarrassing."

Tara emitted a hefty sigh to let Faith know that she was being overly harsh. Rather than make any attempt to increase her pace, she dropped out of her stride altogether. She ignored Faith's grunt of disgust and continued at a brisk walking pace. Faith continued running backwards for a few more metres before she also gave up. While Tara was struggling to return her breathing to normal, Faith immediately looked as though she had yet to set out on her run. Instead of feeling bitter about this, Tara reached out and wrapped a sweaty arm around Faith's shoulders.

"Tara, you're oozing sweat," Faith stated the obvious through slightly gritted teeth.

"Well, that's what normal people do when they run," Tara replied unapologetically. "Just because you're super human and seem not to secrete bodily fluids."

"Eww, T, that's kinda gross."

Tara laughed. Her mood had improved now that she was no longer torturing herself. She released Faith from her sweaty embrace and stopped to stretch out her left hamstring on a nearby bench. The muscle felt as though it was about to snap like a piece of dry chewing gum.

"You know, it's alright to say no to me every now and then," Faith said as she moved to sit down on the bench. "If you don't feel like running, just tell me. It's understandable that you're exhausted given the enthusiastic state of your love life."

"How the hell do you know my love life is enthusiastic?" Tara demanded.

Faith rolled her eyes. "Because you're exhausted but I've never seen you happier. I'd equate that with plenty of fucking with your new girlfriend."

"I will neither confirm nor deny your accusations." Tara replied with a solemn face. However, a slight upward curl to the corner of her mouth completely gave her away.

Faith was right. She had never been happier - not through her confused adolescent flirtation with Fiona Rigby or her seven year relationship with Audrey. Despite the almost giddy feeling which gripped her every time she thought of Willow, Tara was enough of a pragmatist to look at the situation with a healthy amount of caution. She didn't consider their relationship to be brand new. While it was hardly a conventional start to a relationship, their one night stand had clearly been the point at which they inserted themselves into each other's lives. Neither of them had been able to move past the other – with Willow having been unable to become involved with anyone else and her own ill-fated fling with Grace Palmer.

Tara looked up from concentrating on her leg to gaze out over the harbour. She felt a sense of hope. She and Willow had already been through so much, it seemed as if anything they might face in the future would be minor in comparison. Tara sighed. She knew all too well that was wishful thinking. There was the nagging presence of Audrey hanging over her. Tara knew she shouldn't be so nervous about telling Willow. So she had a partner who died – big deal?

Tara sighed. It wasn't such a big deal. _Yeah, but then there will be the unspoken questions that I will have trouble asking Willow. Audrey was cheating on me, do I need to worry about you doing the same thing?_ Not to mention the fact that Willow had only recently managed to tell her about the death of her parents. Would it come in poor taste to mention Audrey after that revelation? _Okay, I raise your dead parents with a dead girlfriend of seven years. Did I mention that she was killed on the same day she tried to break up with me?_

"Penny for your thoughts, T?" Faith's question interrupted her.

She glanced across towards her best friend and frowned. "You know, I think that phrase needs to be adjusted for inflation. Ten bucks for your thoughts sounds much more reasonable."

"Stop trying to worm your way out of the question." Faith narrowed her eyes. "I know that expression. You're worrying needlessly about something, I can tell."

There was no point in trying to lie when talking to Faith. "I have to tell Willow about Audrey but I'm worried what she'll think."

"You had a partner, she died. I can't see where the difficulty lies?"

"I think Willow might feel I'll be continuously worried that she'll cheat on me."

Faith snorted disdainfully. "Tara, sweetie, trust me, that girl is not going to cheat on you."

"You really think she's that into me?" Tara asked hopefully.

"That and the fact that I threatened to kick the crap out of her if she so much as made you cry," Faith admitted a little sheepishly.

"You didn't!" Tara reached out and delivered a swift punch to Faith's arm.

They shared a laugh and Tara was relieved to find that her gloomy mood had only been momentary. She straightened up and found that her leg had almost come right but there would be no more running for her that evening.

When Faith stood, they started back towards the city at a brisk walk - the brunette seemingly untroubled by the fact that her run had been cut short.

"So, you're coming to Imerst on Saturday night?" Tara asked.

"I'm not too sure about that, T," Faith replied warily. "You'll be too busy snogging Willow in a corner somewhere to protect me from all the lesbians."

"Isn't Buffy going to be there?"

"No, I don't know. Why would she be there?" Faith asked defensively.

Tara narrowed her eyes. "Because she's Willow's friend…not to mention the fact that she's into you, and you're into her."

"I'll let you know on Friday okay?" Faith sighed.

"Why Friday?"

Faith's reply was slightly reluctant, "Because…we're going on a…date on Thursday night." She had to force the 'D' word out through her teeth.

Tara clapped her hands enthusiastically and put her arm back around Faith's shoulders for a brief hug. When she glanced back at the brunette, her embarrassment had faded slightly and there was a smile of anticipation on her face. Obviously she was looking forward to Thursday night more than she let on.

* * *

The week rolled by at an alarmingly speed. Willow eventually had to make good on her promise of a Saturday night out with Xander. Upon walking into the pulsating hive of wanton immortality that was Imerst, Willow felt a nervous tingle shoot down her spine. Despite the fact that it had been months since she had set foot in the place, it almost felt like coming home – that is, if home was somewhere with half-naked drunks and music that was too loud. The beat quickly found its way into her bloodstream. Willow found herself subconsciously moving her hips and nodding her head in time with the music. It was all too easy. A tray of cocktails whizzed by and she could already anticipate the coolness of one sliding down her throat.

For several moments, all Willow could do was stop and stare gormlessly. At the point where she felt as though she would either throw herself into the midst of the throng on the dance floor or turn around and run out of the club altogether, she felt warm fingers entwining with her own. Willow first looked down to her hand and then up at the face of the woman standing beside her. It was as though Tara could read the thoughts flowing through her brain. She offered a reassuring smile which Willow quickly returned. For the first time ever, Willow Rosenberg walked into Imerst holding the hand of her girlfriend. She was amazed at just how fantastic it felt. When Tara mouthed 'are you okay?' in her direction, she was able to reply with an honest nod.

Together with Tara, Buffy, Faith and Xander, Willow moved further into the club. She circled around behind the dance floor and spied a spot in which they could stand without being jostled on all sides. Willow pointedly ignored anyone else in the club that may have been staring at her – in fact, she knew that people in the club were definitely staring at her. She could feel their eyes boring into her skin. No doubt there were several games of Chinese whispers doing a circuit of the room already to announce that Willow Rosenberg had decided to once again grace Imerst with her presence. Willow focused on her friends instead. Tara looked nothing short of drop dead gorgeous in simple black pants, halter neck top and heeled boots. She knew that if Tara wasn't with her, then she would have been making a beeline straight for her anyway – much as she had done the night they met. As it was, Tara was her girlfriend and the mere thought of it made her giddy with all manner of strange, new emotions.

"Well, this is exciting," Faith commented.

Willow didn't know the brunette well enough to know if she was being sarcastic or not. She had however, made quite an effort to look the part. She wore her hair down, with a plain white tank top and tight leather pants that clung to her arse. No doubt most of the lesbians in Imerst were already drooling over her. Willow doubted that any of them would actually be able to get close to her. Buffy was hovering at Faith's elbow with a possessive look in her eyes. Willow still wasn't entirely sure whether the two of them could actually be considered an 'item.'

She turned to face Tara with the pretext of placing a discreet kiss on her cheek. "Can I tease Buffy and Faith about their couplely-ness yet?" she whispered in her girlfriend's ear.

Tara merely offered a small shrug in return. She didn't know either. However there was a hint of mischief in her eyes that clearly indicated she shared Willow's desire to have a bit of fun at the expense of their friends.

A few moments later, Xander unknowingly offered her the perfect opportunity to uncover the truth behind Buffy and Faith's fledgling relationship. "This is nothing short of a disaster," he complained with a note of theatricality to his voice. "I'm the sole unattached loser in our group! I've never been that guy!"

While Willow laughed and threw her arm around Xander's shoulders, Tara looked at Buffy and Faith with an arched eyebrow. The pair looked decidedly nervous. "Buffy and Faith are both still single," she pointed out with a wink in Faith's direction.

She grinned as Faith eyeballed her angrily in response. In turn, Buffy elbowed Faith discreetly but sharply in the ribs. Given that everyone's attention was focused on them, no one missed it for what it signalled.

Faith could only throw up her hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll admit it – we're fucking dating okay?"

"Which one is it?" Willow teased further. "Are you fucking or dating?"

Tara watched as her best friend's cheeks bristled bright red. She had never seen the brunette so embarrassed since her law school graduation ceremony where she tripped on the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Both, okay?" Faith replied. "It all happened late this week – dinner and a movie led to sex and when I woke up I was in a lesbian relationship. Does that completely satisfy everyone's curiosity?"

"Almost," Tara said as she swept Faith and Buffy into either arm and gave them a firm squeeze. She pressed her mouth next to Buffy's ear and asked a cheeky question, "How was she? Out of ten?"

"Hey!" Faith rounded on Tara and punched her in the upper arm. "I heard that!"

Buffy grinned in response and walked in front of Tara so she could wrap her arms around Faith's waist. "Ten - she was amazing…she is amazing."

As Buffy drew Faith in for a passionate kiss, Xander made a fake retching sound and seized Tara by the elbow. "Okay, you are coming with me to buy drinks before you can make any other inappropriate comments. You coming too, Will?"

"Bathroom stop – should've gone before I left home," Willow said, briefly reaching out to touch Tara's wrist. "Can you get me a glass of wine? Anything half decent."

Willow left Buffy and Faith alone to make out on the fringe of the dance floor to make her way to the bathroom. She felt a little nostalgic entering – after all, it had been the site of her first make-out session with Tara. Granted, that particular session had been one of many between her and another woman in Imerst's bathroom. However, unlike the others, Tara was more than a one night stand. While waiting in line, she checked her hair and make-up in the mirror. Given that she had only just arrived at the club, everything was still perfect.

Thankfully, the line wasn't long and upon emerging from the stall she went quickly to wash her hands. As she did, she felt an arm snake around her waist and draw her backwards until her arse was rubbing against someone's pelvis. Willow looked at her reflection to see Kelly of all people standing behind her. Given her rather wild eyes and inappropriate touching, Willow deduced that her ex-girlfriend was already half-trashed. Seeing the woman immediately took Willow back to Xander's birthday party and the awful incident with Tara. She was of half a mind to retaliate and give Kelly a black eye of her own.

As it was, Willow just wanted to get away from Kelly as quickly as possible and rejoin her lover."Your hand, Kelly," Willow looked downwards. It was resting on her abdomen in a manner that was much too possessive for Willow's liking.

"You always liked my hands," Kelly purred in Willow's ear.

"Liked, I liked your hands – as in past-tense being the most important part of that sentence," Willow stressed as she stepped out of Kelly's grasp before she could take things any further. She sighed wearily and shook her head. "Can we stop playing these games? The disaster that was our relationship is over and it's been over for a long time."

"Since when did something being 'over' ever stop Willow Rosenberg from getting what she wanted?" Kelly demanded in a slightly more aggressive tone.

"Ever since I found out what it was I really wanted," Willow replied calmly.

"What?" Kelly snorted. "That insipid blonde?"

Willow ignored the comment and replied firmly, "A real life! Now, if you don't mind, I'm going back to my gorgeous girlfriend. I'd appreciate it if I saw you as little as possible."

Kelly snorted disdainfully. "Do you really think she's going to be able to hold your attention? I give it another month, maybe two at the most before the shine wears off and you start feeling claustrophobic. You'll be looking for the next thrilling conquest."

"You're wrong, Kelly," Willow replied, trying to keep her voice calm despite the fact she was becoming more pissed off by the second. "You know why? Because it was Tara who conquered me."

A stall door opened. Without waiting for a reply from Kelly, Willow slipped in past the previous occupant and shut the door firmly behind her. She drew in a calming breath. It didn't take long for her to feel over the encounter with her ex. There was always going to be baggage from her past reappearing in her life and it was reassuring to find that it mattered very little to her.

When Willow emerged back out into the club a few minutes later, she didn't see Kelly anywhere. She immediately saw a few other past flings – the very fact enough to make her realise just how promiscuous she had been before she met Tara. Thankfully, all had the good manners not to try and perform the same stunt as Kelly. Willow even went as far to greet each one warmly, earning a few smiles and hopefully some good vibes in return.

She made her way to the bar to find Xander and Tara with their heads tipped back, each downing an oversized shot glass. Tara finished hers first and slammed it down on the bar next to an already emptied glass.

"You're plying my girlfriend with shots?" she demanded incredulously.

Xander had the good manner to look slightly sheepish as he quickly placed his own shot glass down on the bar. Tara, however, flashed Willow a grin that was far from apologetic. She placed her arm around Willow's back and drew her close with a very firm tug. Faced with the combination of Tara's seductive smile and the feel of her hand snaking its way down over her arse, Willow was completely powerless to protest further. She let herself melt into Tara's body for a few moments. Her mouth roamed up over the smooth skin of her girlfriend's neck. She breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent. When she closed her eyes, she felt the insistent thumping of the music throughout her entire body. Instinctively, she began to move her hips to the music. At the same time, Willow kept moving her mouth upwards until she reached Tara's lips. With an enthusiastic sigh she claimed them in a deep, passionate kiss. The couple remained locked together for several moments, oblivious to anything or anyone until Xander let out a loud cough.

Even then Willow and Tara didn't separate. They merely stopped kissing and turned to face their friend with matching smiles of apology – neither were very sincere.

"Are you two here to dance with me or should we call it a night now?" he demanded.

Willow turned to face her girlfriend and the sparkle in Tara's eyes betrayed exactly where she wanted to be at that moment. Just that smouldering, lusty glance was enough to turn her on to the point of being weak at the knees. She knew she wouldn't need any further persuading to ditch Xander and make haste towards either of their apartments. However just as she was about to propel Tara towards the exit, Willow found herself being steered towards the dance floor instead. Tara had her on one arm and an appreciative Xander on the other.

As soon as Willow found herself in the midst of the dancing throng on the dance floor, she was able to push aside her immediate thoughts of sex with Tara – although that thought never went far from her mind. Especially when Tara's pelvis ground against her own in a sensual dance. She lost track of time after that. At some stage, Faith and Buffy joined them. With her girlfriend and best friends dancing around her, Willow was as content as she'd ever been.

Tara knew Willow was in her element on the middle of the dance floor at Imerst. Her redheaded girlfriend was at the very epicentre of the club's throbbing beat, almost as though everything radiated outwards from her. At several points during the evening, various people passed her drinks of some sort or another. Willow made sure she got plenty of water but it was matched glass for glass by different mixers of varying colours.

It was only when they finally decided to leave Imerst and go in search of something to eat, that Tara realised just how drunk she was. As she twirled out of the club in Willow's arms, it was almost as though she was somewhere above the street looking down on herself. She heard herself utter a musical laugh at the mention of Xander finding himself a tasty piece of arse for the night. He decided that remaining on the dance floor would do more for his chances of getting laid than heading out for a burger. Moments later she found herself firmly back in her own body. She was well aware of her unsteady legs beneath her. It was only Willow's firm arm around her back that kept her upright.

"I think I'm a little drunk," Tara admitted loudly, directly into Willow's ear.

"Just a little," Willow agreed readily.

She tried to steer Tara out of the way of some approaching revellers but was couldn't tug the blonde aside in time. Tara's shoulder rammed heavily into that of a tall, dark-haired young man walking in the opposite direction.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Tara looked up. "I wasn't looking..." She stopped abruptly when she glanced up at the person she had hit.

"I knew you were angry at me, Tara," he began. "But shoulder barging me is going a little far."

"David," Tara identified him quickly. How could she forget him? She clearly remembered David at Audrey's funeral, surrounded by her family as though he had been the grieving partner of seven years instead of Tara.

"You're looking...well," he replied with a smile.

Tara couldn't quite interpret the smile, was he mocking her? She felt almost a year's worth of repressed bitterness well up inside her. Of course, the smart thing would have been to continue walking down the street but she wanted to face him. With her chin held high, Tara continued, "I think it's presumptuous to think I'm still angry."

"Aren't you?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

Tara shook her head resolutely. "Not in the slightest."

Willow had been watching the whole odd exchange with a confused expression on her face. She could sense that Tara was uncomfortable and stepped closer to Tara.

"I'm Willow," she stated. "Are you a friend of Tara's, David?"

"Not exactly," David replied. "Let's just say Tara and I had a mutual friend."

"Audrey was not just my friend and you know it!" Tara replied, her voice suddenly vehement.

"Come on, Tara. It was over between the two of you! Can't you just acknowledge that I lost the woman I loved and stop thinking that I ruined a relationship that was already over? Audrey was never gay, she just needed to find the right man."

"What the fuck!" Tara spluttered indignantly. She was suddenly lost for words and could only stare blankly at David as though he had grown two heads.

Unable to find the right words, Tara uncharacteristically placed her hands on David's chest and gave him a sharp shove. Although there was little real force behind the push, it was sufficient to send someone who was drunk stumbling backwards and into the window of a nearby shop.

"What the hell?" David placed his hand on the window to steady himself before standing.

"T!" Faith bounded forward and wrapped her arms securely around Tara, effectively restraining her from doing anything further. She glanced up at the startled and angry man opposite her. "Just walk away, David – please?"

David shook his head and muttered several foul epithets under his breath as he stared at Tara. The blonde had gone rather limp in Faith's arms and wasn't making any move to escape. Finally his friends grabbed him by the shoulder and one told him to forget about it.

"Fucking dyke," he slurred in Tara's direction before one of his companions was able to turn him in the opposite direction. He left without any further words.

Willow couldn't quite believe the scene that had placed out in front of her eyes. She looked down the street at David's back as he walked away. Then her gaze went back to her girlfriend. Tara had disentangled herself from Faith's gentle restraint and was sitting on a flight of stairs leading up off the street. She shook her head as though that simple action might bring her back to her senses. "What the devil was that all about?" she asked in disbelief. "Who is Audrey?"

Tara looked up at Willow. The redhead was staring at her as though she had become a completely different person. That scared her far more than her uncharacteristic violent outburst. Faith and Buffy were also staring at her with similar expressions. Although there was a knowledge in Faith's eyes that was missing from the others, she still looked just as horrified. Faith knew exactly who David was and what he represented to Tara but she still could not believe that Tara had lashed out physically.

"I…um – I think I need to get out of here," was Tara's only response, ignoring Willow's questions. She felt sick to her stomach, disgusted by what she had just done.

"Come on, let's find us a taxi." Willow didn't press the issue further. When Tara took her outstretched hand, she helped her to her feet with one swift tug. With one arm wrapped securely around Tara's waist, she turned to Faith and Buffy with an attempt at a reassuring smile. "Are you guys going to call it a night?"

"I'm not sure," Faith replied as she turned to Buffy. "I do really need something to eat…and a coffee."

"Starbucks?" Buffy suggested quietly.

"Starbucks it is," Faith nodded in agreement. "Maybe you two should join us?"

Willow felt rather than saw Tara's shake of her head. "I think we're done with town tonight. See you later."

"Count on it," Faith took Buffy's hand.

Willow watched the pair walk off with a last wave before gently prodding Tara in the direction of the nearest taxi rank. She desperately wanted to get to the bottom of Tara's mystery but knew it could wait until they were safely inside with coffee of their own.

* * *

When the taxi ground to a halt outside her building ten minutes later, Willow quickly paid the driver and exited the taxi. She was relieved to be out of the stuffy confines of the car – it had smelt of a combination of carpet shampoo and the alcoholic stench left by half a nights worth of drunken passengers. She crossed around to Tara's door and opened it with the intention of helping the blonde out of the car. However, she found herself left standing beside the taxi as Tara remained inside.

Tara eventually leaned over and looked up at Willow. "I think it's best if I go home…to my own apartment."

Willow was momentarily taken aback before she could think of a suitable reply. "Of course you should – I mean – I shouldn't have assumed that you would be coming home with me." The words felt rather hollow. Of course she had assumed that Tara would be coming home with her. Most of the night had clearly been pointing towards hot, steamy sex – up until Tara had flipped out after meeting David on the street. From that point on Willow's only concern had been for Tara. All she wanted was the opportunity to hold her, comfort her while she was obviously hurting.

"Tara - baby – I can't let you go home alone. Not when you're hurting like you are," Willow protested gently. She reached out and laid a hand on her upper arm.

"I'm not hurting!" Tara replied abruptly. She brushed off Willow's touch and looked away from her. "I'm just…angry, and tired. I want to be alone."

"Okay," Willow replied slowly, dejectedly. The last thing she wanted was to let Tara go home alone, but she recognised the need for solitude when she saw it. She pulled another note out of her purse and handed it to the driver. "Can you take her home please? 22 Everton Terrace."

"Certainly, ma'am," the driver replied. "Have a good night."

With a last brief brush of her palm against Tara's cheek, Willow stepped out of the taxi. _How can the rest of my night be anything other than downright depressing? _She watched it pull away until its red tail lights disappeared around a corner. When Tara didn't look back once, she felt tears prick at her eyes. She stood on the side of the street for at least a minute before finally making her way inside.

A few minutes later, as she sat heavily on her sofa with a bottle of red wine, Willow suddenly wished she had a cat, or a dog - just something warm and snugly on her lap.

"Who gives a fuck about cat hairs on a six hundred dollar dress," she muttered to herself as she glanced down at the Karen Walker number she was wearing.

She spied one single strand of blonde hair stuck to the fabric and plucked it off. It was at that point that she put both the bottle of wine and her glass down on the floor and curled up on the sofa, tucking her stockinged feet beneath her. Willow couldn't sleep, instead she lay staring at the wall opposite. All the while she played the events through her mind and wondered what she could have done differently. Should she have socked the guy on the jaw? _Just because you do Tai Bo at the gym doesn't mean you can actually hit someone, stupid._ Perhaps she should have refused to let Tara go home alone?

Willow sighed – it was all too late. If only she had been a better girlfriend somehow, then she may have been able to spare Tara some of her pain.


	22. Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear

**~ Chapter 22 ~**

**Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear**

_Oh my god. I'm such a bitch._

After the dreadful taxi ride home, Tara had dragged on her pyjamas and tumbled into bed almost as soon as she set foot in her apartment. All she wanted was to fall into the blissful escape of sleep. After several hours, sleep still hadn't come.

_I'm a bitch._

As Tara struggled to fall asleep, the words kept repeating in her head. She snuggled further down into the covers and drew them up over her head as though that act might shut them out. It was all an exercise in futility. A deep, totally ingrained feeling of regret wouldn't allow her to relax enough for sleep. Tara fervently wished she had done several things differently that night. An ideal situation would have been for her not to have shoved David at all. Given that they were both mature adults, she could have uttered a polite greeting. Or she could have been less mature but far wiser and ignored him all together.

Regardless of whether the shove had happened or not, the regret she felt deepest was her treatment of Willow. Her girlfriend had only been trying to help – and in the least intrusive, gentlest way she could – but Tara had coldly brushed her aside.

She tossed angrily in her bed. With her furious movements, it grew hot and stuffy beneath the covers and she threw them back. Tara let out a forceful sigh. If only she'd listened to Willow and not got home alone. It required very little imagination to picture herself safely wrapped up in Willow's arms. Of course she had quite a bit of explaining to do on her part, but there was always another day for that.

After over an hour of tossing and turning without coming any closer to sleep, Tara threw off the covers altogether and bounded to her feet decisively. Her bounding was a little too enthusiastic as she felt her head swim with the residual effects of her excess alcohol consumption. Tara realised she was halfway in between being drunk and hung-over – it wasn't a pleasant state. Still, a sense of purpose was enough to drive her out of her bedroom and to her apartment door. She tugged on a pair of sneakers and pulled the nearest coat to hand over her pyjamas. However, as soon as she picked up her car keys she stopped and frowned.

"Okay, still drunk," Tara said aloud to herself – the fact that she was talking to herself was more than enough confirmation of her inebriation not to mention having simply picked up her car keys. She shook her head and placed them back where they belonged. As she ran out the door, she was already dialling a taxi.

If the taxi driver thought a pyjama clad woman riding in his car at nearly five am was something out of the ordinary, he didn't say anything. He merely nodded at her destination at took her straight there.

Although there was very little traffic, Tara drummed her fingers impatiently on her knee for the entirety of the ten minute ride. She kept playing different scenarios in her head. How was Willow going to react to her apology? More importantly, how was she going to react to the information about Audrey?

Her impatience lasted until she left the taxi and approached the door of Willow's apartment building. Tara paused with her finger hovering over the button next to Willow's name. It was almost five am and she felt ridiculous for even thinking about disturbing Willow when she was probably fast asleep. Nevertheless, she drew in a breath and jabbed her finger on the button briefly. She was surprised when the answering buzz came within seconds and the door clicked open.

When she knocked on Willow's door a minute later, it opened swiftly and Tara realised just why she had been buzzed up so quickly. Willow was still wearing the black dress she had on a few hours ago when the taxi had dropped her off. The only article of clothing she had removed was her heels – even her make-up was still perfect. Her one concession to the fact that it was a relatively cold night was the over-sized cardigan she had draped over her shoulders.

"I feel decidedly under-dressed," Tara commented in a humour-less voice.

Willow glanced down at her outfit as though reminding herself what she was wearing. Their night out on the town seemed like last week instead of just a few hours earlier. She took in the sight of Tara standing in the hallway, wearing only a jacket over a pair of pyjamas with little donkeys on them.

"How did you get here?" Willow asked in a tired voice.

"Taxi," Tara replied. "I had to-"

Tara stopped mid-thought. Her mouth kept moving wordlessly for a moment longer before she gave up on speaking altogether. The thoughts that she wanted to voice were almost instantly forgotten at the sight of Willow's eyes staring back at her. With a breath that was almost a whimper, Tara launched herself forward over the threshold and into Willow's startled embrace.

For a split second, Willow almost toppled backwards. She shifted her weight and returned the almost desperate hug she found herself in. The pair of them stood in the doorway of Willow's apartment for several minutes without a word. When Tara finally felt that she was able to give Willow a small measure of space, she stepped back only slightly and kept a firm arm around her waist.

"I'm so sorry, Willow!" Tara blurted out. "I'm such an awful bitch."

Willow responded by shaking her head in immediate disagreement. She lifted a gentle hand to Tara's head, wiped a strand of hair out of her eyes and then let the hand linger on her cheek for a moment. "You're not a bitch. Regardless of what you think you've done, I can emphatically say that you are incapable of being a bitch. You were upset, and maybe a little angry-"

"Quit it with the euphemisms, Will," Tara interrupted in a sad voice. "I know you well enough to know that you have no qualms about speaking your mind."

"Except when it comes to you," Willow pointed out, quickly recalling her contrasting bouts of verbal diarrhoea or tongue-tied awkwardness in Tara's presence. She could no longer suppress the grin she felt tugging at the corners of her lips. After having spent several miserable hours tucked up on her couch, unable even to get changed out of her party clothes, she was relieved beyond belief to have Tara standing in front of her. There were obviously things that needed to be said, but she had a gut feeling that told her everything was eventually going to be alright between the two of them.

"How about I make us both a cup of coffee?" Willow suggested, eager to get out of the doorway in case her neighbours were being kept awake by her rather public relationship issues.

"A coffee would be fantastic," Tara agreed readily. However, before Willow led her further into the apartment, she lifted her hand, grasped her firmly around the neck and drew her close for a brief kiss. "Thank you," she whispered sincerely.

"It's just a coffee," Willow explained, feeling her cheeks go slightly pink as the delicious warmth created by Tara's lips spread throughout her body.

Tara found a small smile of her own. "I meant thank you for being so gracious at five am in the morning. I half-expected you to slam the door shut in my face…or not even let me in the building."

"Well it's nothing really," Willow added modestly. "I haven't quite outgrown my old night owl lifestyle. In the old days, at five am, you'd be catching me at my best. Now hurry inside before someone sees you standing outside my door in your pyjamas."

"I'm quite sure that women have stood outside your door wearing a lot worse…or less," Tara commented as she allowed herself to be dragged inside.

"True," Willow replied. "But now that I'm an upstanding member of the business community, I have a reputation to protect."

Tara smiled and nodded to humour Willow, but the resulting wink from the redhead indicated she wasn't taking herself that seriously.

Tara was curled up in one corner of Willow's couch in just her pyjamas, absently leafing through one of the many seemingly untouched coffee table books, when Willow returned with their coffees. Awkwardly holding both cups in one hand, she spread a couple of coasters out so she could place them safely on the table. Obviously the new Willow hated coffee rings on her furniture.

"I've stopped employing a cleaner," Willow felt the need to explain as she sat heavily on the couch next to Tara's feet. "I thought it might be character building for me to learn to clean up after myself."

Tara raised her eyebrows as she reached for her coffee. "And is it?"

Willow shrugged. "Hard to tell. You take away the constant parties and I'm actually an exceptionally tidy person-" she pursed her lips together thoughtfully before continuing, "-almost a neat freak. Although I still don't know where my vacuum cleaner is."

When her answering laugh had faded away, Tara realised that Willow was waiting expectantly for her to say something. She was momentarily tongue-tied as she searched for a way to begin that didn't sound crass when compared to Willow's own loss. Eventually she decided that a straight forward account of the facts was the best way to start. Thankfully and miraculously, the lingering effects of alcohol had almost completely disappeared.

"Four months before that night you and I met, I lost someone - my partner Audrey. We had been together for seven years when she died in a car crash."

Willow's facial expression soon shifted from one of focussed attention to outright mortification as she grasped exactly what Tara was saying. "Tara," she whispered. "You mean to say that when I dragged you back here and took advantage of you, you were still grieving for someone you'd spent seven years of your life with? Seven years…"

Willow found it difficult to comprehend being in a relationship for that length of time. She couldn't even remember what she was doing seven years ago – except to guess that it involved drinking and all night dance parties. Tara nodded in response to her question and she immediately uttered a horrified whimper.

However, before she could say anything further, Tara affectionately poked Willow's leg with her foot. "You didn't take advantage of me, Will…well, yes you did – but I wanted…needed you to. Up until that night I'd barely left my apartment for months. I was a permanent fixture on my couch, doing nothing but watching Oprah. You got me out of that funk."

Not overly reassured by Tara's words, Willow replied with a frown, "We had sex and then I spent six months doing my best to drive you insane. I think you would have been better off sticking with Oprah."

Tara managed a smile. She reached out and set her coffee down on the table so she could scoot around on the couch. She tucked herself firmly against Willow's body and in turn, Willow wrapped an arm securely around her shoulders. With Willow's chin resting on the top of her head, Tara felt safely cocooned.

"I'm fairly pleased with the eventual outcome," she said as she nuzzled against Willow. Already she felt as though her heated words in the taxi were a bad memory. She allowed herself a few delicious moments with her eyes closed, listening to Willow breathing, before she continued with the rest of her explanation. "Only hours before she died, Audrey broke up with me over the phone. My last words to her were angry…hurt." Tara's voice took on a bitter tone that she was unaccustomed to hearing from herself. Talking about what had happened reminded her exactly how unfair life was. "While I was at the hospital, I ran into David, the man you had the misfortune of meeting last night. He chose that time to inform me that he was the reason Audrey was breaking up with me. They'd been seeing each other for six months.

Retelling the difficult story was made easier by the comforting sensation of Willow's warm breath falling on the top of her head.

"That's awful." It sounded inadequate, but it was all Willow could think of saying.

Tara drew in a deep breath. She had no desire to revisit the awful horror that was Audrey's funeral. Even thinking about it made her sick to her stomach. "It gets slightly worse. At the funeral, Audrey's family treated David as the grieving partner while I was made to feel like an outsider. He was the partner they'd always wanted for her…the seven years I was with her was a forgettable interlude."

"That's not just 'slightly' worse," Willow added in a disgusted voice, squeezing Tara's shoulder even tighter. "That's positively medieval!"

"It was…difficult - hence my disgusting behaviour last night. Seeing David again, while I was so drunk, it was just a little too much for my fragile ego," Tara winced as she remembered physically shoving David. He was an arsehole, pure and simple, but Tara knew she should never have sunk to such a low. "I should have told you earlier, but I was worried that it might be in poor taste coming so soon after you had told me about your parents."

Willow kissed her gently on the top of her head. "You didn't have to tell me anything until you were ready. Running into David forced you to confront the whole thing and your reaction was totally understandable-"

"Will!" Tara protested, jerking her head up and meeting the redhead's gaze squarely. "There's no way that I am letting you condone what I did. I assaulted someone in public!"

"Yeah, you definitely need lessons on that," Willow commented thoughtfully. "Next time you should go for a right hook instead of a shove. Or maybe a swift kick to the balls."

"Will!" Tara repeated – although there was now a slight smirk on her face. She relaxed slightly and her gaze softened. With an air of almost relief, she moved forward and found Willow's lips for a gentle kiss. When she drew back she felt almost cheerful. "Willow Rosenberg, you are a terrible influence."

As she pressed her forehead to Tara's, Willow ran her hands across Tara's back in a firm caress. She drew her even closer until their bodies were pressed together tightly. "I'm glad you told me about Audrey, and David...and exceptionally glad you decided to tell me now. I don't think I could have spent any longer with all that tension between us. Pathetic really, it was only a few hours."

"It was several hours too many," Tara agreed. Her chest was moving rapidly as her breathing quickened. Being so close to Willow, it was difficult to think about anything other than sex.

"But we're good now – more than good. Spiffing actually."

The blatant desire in Willow's voice betrayed her own thoughts and they obviously matched Tara's own. As she found Willow's lips again, Tara wondered how anyone could possibly make the word 'spiffing' sound remotely sexy. Those thoughts were quickly replaced by others as Willow placed two hands on her chest and pressed her backwards into the cushions of the couch. Gone was any pretence at being gentle, as her girlfriend straddled her and slipped one thigh between her own. Tara heard herself gasp with delight as Willow ground down hard with her body weight. Moments later gasping was out of the question as Willow kissed her again. This time the kiss didn't end. They continued, each hungrily devouring the taste of the other - constantly searching for more. The air was filled with the wet sounds of kissing, and the harsh rubbing of fabric.

Eventually, Willow sat up. For a moment or two she stared down at the gorgeous blonde woman she straddled. She smiled broadly in anticipation as she grabbed the front of Tara's pyjama top and dragged her upwards. Willow then turned her attention to the important task of removing the annoying clothing that stood between her and Tara's naked body.

"Is this make up sex?" Tara asked as Willow wrenched her pyjama top over her head.

Willow managed to pull the top off, although she also made Tara's hair into a style approximating a bird's nest. Laughing, she smoothed the offending strands down with her hands and cupped Tara's head. "We had nothing to make up for. This is sex – good, old-fashioned, hot, lesbian-type fucking."

With a delighted laugh at Willow's exaggerated sultry voice, Tara pushed her cardigan off her shoulders and tossed it to the floor. She ran her hands over the newly exposed skin, feeling every inch of the firm, smooth surface. Her fingers hooked beneath the straps of Willow's dress and she peeled them downwards. Impatiently, she tried to force the dress downwards to get at Willow's breasts but it was too tight. Willow sensed her frustration and reached around for the zip. Once undone, she pulled the dress roughly over her head with little regard for the fact that it had cost hundreds of dollars. It fell to the floor alongside her cardigan.

In just a few more seconds, Tara's pyjama pants and their underwear were also thrown aside. Completed naked, the lovers could concentrate on the real task at hand. Their mouths were reunited in a continuation of their hungry kiss. It was still almost desperate, punctuated by gasps and whimpers as their hands roamed to find each other's breasts and, eventually, the already moist tenderness between their legs.

Tara bucked involuntarily at the very first flick of Willow's finger across her clit. Just the first few teasing touches drove her wild with need. She thrust her hips up off the couch, striving to make the contact firmer where she needed it. When Willow's fingers darted just out of reach, she let out an annoyed growl and broke their kiss to nip the flesh of her shoulder.

"Ow!" Willow protested.

"I'll leave a permanent mark soon," Tara said breathily. "I don't want teasing, Will. I just want to feel as much of you as possible, all at once…and now."

Willow raised her eyebrows at Tara's impatience, but it was more a move of delight than surprise. After deliberating holding back her own need, she understood that they both needed the liberating, consuming experience of orgasm as soon as possible. She used one arm to prop herself up slightly so she could stare down at Tara. With the other, she continued to roam over Tara's body. Despite Tara's warning, she continued to tease - allowing herself to roughly pinch Tara's nipples between her fingers. She then trailed her hand downwards towards where her thigh lay nestled against Tara's. Her fingers drifted over Tara's belly, down over her hips and then she shifted slightly so she could get at the inside of her thighs. Feather light touches darted over the soft skin she found there. With a wicked grin, she again flicked out towards the tender, engorged flesh between Tara's thighs. The resulting gasp drew a response from her own centre as she felt a delicious flood of moisture. She lowered her head and pressed her lips close to Tara's ear.

"You want me to stop teasing you?" Willow asked in a whisper. She nibbled briefly at Tara's earlobe. Tara didn't say anything in response, instead she nodded urgently as Willow again reached out to briefly touch her clit. "You want me to shut up and fuck you?" The words were for her own pleasure as much as Tara's. Even as they left her lips, she felt another spasm of wetness between her legs. The fire in her lower belly raged and desperately needed sating. She felt Tara's nails dig harshly into the skin on her back to the point where they were threatening to break through and draw blood.

"Fingers…cunt…now," Tara whispered into Willow's ear, although she didn't just nibble on Willow's earlobe – she bit down hard. "Or two can play at this game."

Tara moved one hand downwards and found Willow's own sweaty thighs. Willow lifted herself up onto one knee so Tara could easily reach between them. In unison, the two girls probed and found each other's passages. A split second later, they both thrust their fingers upwards and buried them deeply within each other. Their resulting gasps of pleasure were almost identical.

At first their movements were frantic but awkward as they both strained too quickly to fulfil the other's desire. Then their mouths met and they relaxed slightly. The pair were able to slip into a rhythm. It was gentle at first as they co-ordinated their movements. Given their urgent need, the pace quickened rapidly until they reached the same level of intensity they began with. However, now each stroke was perfectly timed to match thrusting hips.

As Willow drove her fingers deeply inside Tara, she felt Tara's answering stroke fill her and her thumb grind against her slickly coated clit. Her sweaty body slipped slightly on her leather couch and she felt herself leaning heavily on Tara as she tired. For a moment she wondered whether she should ease off and give Tara a chance to breathe. However, the need to climax and fulfil Tara's as well, drove her past the point where she was thinking sensibly. Her breath thundered in her ears as she buried her face in Tara's neck. Atop that hoarse sound, she heard Tara's own slight whimpers through her breathing and the satisfying squelch of juices as their figures moved.

"Another finger!" Tara demanded in an urgent whisper. "Please!"

Willow obliged, gently squeezing a second finger into Tara's passage alongside the first. "Is that alright, baby?" she asked as she began thrusting, straining to go even deeper.

"Fuck yes!" Tara cried urgently in her ear. Her voice softened a little as she continued, "That's perfect, you're perfect…fuck me, Willow."

Almost unexpectedly, Tara's dirty talk pushed Willow right over the edge. One moment she was marvelling at the sensation of Tara's fingers inside her and the next she was engulfed in a flurry of pleasurable spasms travelling up from her cunt and throughout the rest of her body. She heard herself utter a strangled gasp. It was all she could do to ride it out while continuing to move inside Tara. At the point where she feared she had to stop, her girlfriend's cries mingled with her own. She felt a gush of moisture coat her hand as Tara's sex mirrored the spasms that her own had made just a minute earlier. With renewed determination, she drove hard for several more thrusts, until Tara's fingers slipped out of her cunt and gently took her hand.

"I can't take anymore," Tara said in a satisfied sigh.

Willow withdrew her fingers and let her tired legs give out beneath her. She flopped down limply atop Tara, their sweaty bodies moulding together.

"Oh god." Willow said as she gasped for air, knowing she sounded exactly like an unfit horse at the end of a gallop. "I know I'm squashing you but I really can't move."

"You're just fine where you are," Tara replied in a breathless voice of her own, letting her hands roam contentedly over Willow's sweaty back. "Although you may need to have your couch professionally cleaned."

Willow eventually managed to roll over slightly so her body was only half atop Tara's. With one hand, she reached for the throw rug folded atop the back of the couch and tugged it down. Between the two of them and their lazy, half-co-ordinated efforts, they managed to get it to cover most of their entwined form. Snug and warm, Willow nuzzled down into the narrow gap between the sweet-smelling flank of her girlfriend and the back of the couch. With a satisfied smile on her face, she propped her chin on Tara's shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about moving. Any thoughts of the future which went beyond being curled up on the couch with Tara were dismissed. At that moment, it was all she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

As she listened to Tara's breathing slow, Willow found herself drifting off to sleep. _This must be what love feels like…_


	23. Familiar Arts are Beautiful through Love

**~ Chapter 23 ~  
****Familiar Arts are Beautiful through Love**

The only sound Tara had been listening to for most of the day was the steady tapping of her fingers on the keyboard of her laptop. Occasionally, when she got up to make a cup of coffee or something to eat, she paused long enough to hear the similar, equally satisfactory noise of the rain pattering against the windows of her apartment. As night fell, neither she nor the rain showed any signs of stopping. All she did was pick up her laptop and carry it to bed.

It was only when her fingers began to protest by cramping slightly, she realised she ought to call it quits – for the day at least. Despite the time having been constant in the corner of her screen all day, she had barely paid it any attention. However, when she saw it was after 9pm, she began to wonder when Willow would be home from work. It was late, but it was also the end of the Financial Year for RB Dynamics and Willow was being rushed off her feet as she struggled to accept new responsibilities within the company. Several nights had actually passed when they didn't see each other at all, and on others, Willow turned up late into the evening. Tara sighed, it was hardly necessary. The redhead was brilliant. What she lacked in formal education, she made up for with a clearly defined sense of organisation and clever problem solving.

The slight pause while thinking about her beautiful girlfriend, gave Tara's fingers enough time recover. She had returned to typing with renewed vigour when she heard the front door open and the unmistakable sound of Willow's heels. A few moments later, and she walked into the bedroom. Tara glanced up to see Willow looking slightly worse for wear. Her hair, that had been so elegant that morning, was plastered to her head. While she had obviously been wearing a coat to keep most of her suit dry her trousers below the knee looked completely soaked through.

Willow kicked off her heels and padded across the floor. Tara tilted her face up for a light kiss. "Did you walk home?"

"Of course not," Willow ran a few fingers through Tara's hair. She then started undressing, relieved to finally strip her wet trousers off as they had been clinging uncomfortably to her legs. "This was just going from the office to the taxi, and then from the taxi to your building. It is seriously nasty outside."

"The joys of working from home." Tara rapidly tapped out several more words.

"I don't suppose you managed to go out and get some milk?" Willow asked as she peeled her shirt off. Once free of her shirt, Willow looked back to Tara and gauged the answer to her question from the fact that she had stopped typing and was looking at her with a rather sheepish expression. "Which is why I bought some."

"Thanks, sweetie," Tara mumbled and ducked back down to her writing.

When she looked up again a few moments later, a naked Willow crossed the floor in the direction of the bathroom. Her fingers froze above the keys as she stared at the far more fascinating sight of her girlfriend's perfect arse.

"Will," Tara called just as Willow was about to shut the door behind her.

Willow paused and peaked back around the door. "Yeah?"

"Don't bother getting dressed when you're done," Tara instructed.

Willow grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

However, when Willow emerged after a hasty shower she was disappointed to find Tara still writing just as madly as she had before. She had been hoping that she would be lying naked on the bed in wait for her. Instead, she cast a cursory glance in her direction and held up a finger to indicate that she needed one more minute.

With an intentionally audible sigh, Willow flopped onto the empty side of the bed. She deliberately stayed above the covers and lay on her side with all her best assets laid bare for Tara. Confident of her own sex appeal, Willow merely lay on the bed, watching her girlfriend type. Several more minutes passed than the one Tara had first indicated. Despite Willow's attempts at stretching in a teasing manner and running a feather light touch down Tara's wrist, there was no pause in typing save for a brief one to swat at her annoying fingers.

Ten minutes later, with her skin quite chilled by the cold night air, Willow dragged her pyjamas out from beneath the pillows. She made several disgruntled noises while getting dressed and eventually earned a response.

"How about you make us both a cup of tea?"

"You want a cup of tea?" Willow repeated in a bland voice. She forced herself to swallow her annoyance and continued with forced enthusiasm. "Sure, baby."

Willow managed to turn around her disgruntled attitude while making the tea. Tara was doing something she loved, and no doubt doing it amazingly. Willow felt additionally bad after reminding herself that just a few days earlier, Tara had given up an entire evening to attend an RB Dynamics board dinner. Not once had the blonde complained, even though some of the speeches had been on the dry side. When she returned with two steaming cups of chamomile tea, she placed a kiss on the top of Tara's head.

"What was that for?" Tara asked, accepting one of the cups.

"You're amazing," Willow replied with a smile.

Tara grinned, but managed to look suitably guilty as well. "I'm really sorry, Will. I just have so many ideas racing around in my head at the moment. If I don't get them all down tonight, I'm worried I may lose them."

Willow hopped into the other side of the bed and shook her head. "Don't be sorry. Write. I'm not going anywhere."

As if to prove her change of heart, Willow picked up the book she was currently reading from the bedside table. She was re-reading Tara's third book. It was even better on its second reading, especially as Willow read it from the perspective of someone who was sleeping with the author.

Almost an hour later, Tara finally stopped typing and put down her laptop. When she rolled over, Willow was fully engrossed in the novel. She barely even noticed that Tara was finally ready to pay her some attention.

"Good book?" Tara asked teasingly.

"Great book - I've heard the author is a bit of a bitch though," Willow replied with a straight face.

"Really, I've heard she's hot." Tara gently traced her fingertips down Willow's bare arms.

Willow shrugged but struggled to keep a grin from creeping onto her face. A few moments later she looked across to Tara. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Depends what it is?" Tara went from touching Willow with her fingertips to laying little kisses up her arms instead.

"Are you happy with this book?"

It was Tara's turn to shrug. "I suppose, it's my bestselling work so far. So I should be happy with it."

"But you're not are you?" Willow prodded.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I immediately picked up on the undercurrents of sexual tension between Susan and Eliza I'm no literary critic. I mean, you normally half to beat me over the head with the main themes before I grasp them but this was so obvious. Then I realised that the story you really wanted to write was a love story between the two women. I'm right aren't I?" Without waiting for Tara to answer, Willow continued," You didn't want Eliza to live happily ever after with Thomas at all. She was settling for him because she couldn't bring herself to admit her love for Susan! And you couldn't write that story because it would have ruined your happy little hetero love story…and we all know that books about lesbos in love don't sell as well."

Willow was right of course, and at any other time Tara would have eagerly agreed with her. However, just the sight of the redhead talking with such enthusiasm and passion was more than she could bear.

"Why can't you write stories like that?" Willow was still talking, "I mean, I think you're an amazing writer, don't get me wrong, but I think you could be so much more if your heart was really in it. As opposed to-"

"Will, Tara interrupted her, stepping forward to cup her hand over Willow's mouth. "You're an incredibly intelligent, insightful young woman but, right at this moment, all I'm really interested in is seeing just how quickly you can get your clothes off."

* * *

"Hey, T! We're running a bit late, hun," Willow called over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the mirror. She quickly applied the reminder of her make-up – just one coat of her favourite Mac lipstick – and left the bathroom to check the exact time. Her eyes widened when she saw the clock. "Okay, we're a lot late!"

"Coming," was Tara's absent sounding reply from the bedroom.

Tara didn't sound as panicked as Willow thought she ought to. She uttered a slight growl of frustration. "Tara Maclay, if you're not ready…"

Willow ran into her bedroom, her heels echoing loudly on the floor, only to find Tara fully dressed, with her hair and make-up perfect. She was still busy however as she was surrounded by sheets of paper covered in scribbled notes. She had one sheet resting on her thigh and was writing as though her life depended on getting words onto paper. Willow watched her for a moment – enthralled at seeing her creative talents in full flight. Although the creative talent was eventually superseded by the fact that Tara was just simply drop dead gorgeous in the tight blue dress she wore. It revealed the creamy skin of her upper chest and gave her an indecent amount of cleavage. Willow was momentarily jealous that other people would be able to see such a sight. However, it was her arm that Tara would be on throughout the evening so that made her feel better.

Tara eventually glanced up at her and with an apologetic grin, began gathering the papers up. "Sorry. I've been ready for ages and I just thought I'd scribble a few notes while I was waiting for you."

"Then you got carried away," Willow chided gently.

"Yeah, a little," Tara admitted.

She started to stuff the papers in her handbag when Willow pounced and snatched them away. "Tara, you are not taking these with you! Please, not tonight. It's a big night for me…big, big night."

Tara winced apologetically. She held out her hand and Willow passed them back to her warily. In order to avoid temptation altogether, she stuffed them under one of the pillows on the bed. "You're getting nervous again, aren't you?"

Willow sucked in a lungful of air and nodded curtly. Her eyes suddenly bulged with fright. "My speech notes…I haven't a clue where they are!"

She relaxed slightly as Tara reached into her handbag and withdrew a small stack of colour coded cards – neatly bound with a rubber band.

With a small smile, Willow reached out a hand and helped the blonde to her feet. "We've only been dating for three months and I feel like I can't do anything without you. Where did I leave them?"

"They fell under the couch…while we were...busy this morning," Tara smirked as she remembered just how 'busy' they had been.

Sitting in the taxi a minute later, Willow glanced across to Tara and saw a wistful expression on her face. Willow knew exactly what she was thinking about. "I'm sorry I didn't let you bring your notes."

Tara shook her head. "You were right not to let me bring them. This is your night, Will, you don't want me paying attention to my little bits of paper instead of you."

Willow's nerves stayed with her throughout the rest of the taxi drive and only increased as she walked into the venue. The RB Dynamics Annual Dinner was being held in one of the most prestigious and sumptuously appointed venues in town. Given that Willow and Tara had been running late, it was already teeming with employees and other invited guests. They eventually found their way to their allocated table right at the front of the room near the stage. Two of the six seats at their table were already occupied. Buffy and Faith looked up with relieved smiles when they saw them.

"I thought you'd done a runner, Will," Buffy said as she stood and deposited a kiss on Willow's cheek. She then followed suit with Tara, only this time it was a cheeky kiss on the lips.

"Hey, hey, that's enough smooching with my girlfriend!" Willow grinned.

They took their seats at the table. Willow immediately retrieved her speech notes from her bag and started flipping through them with the air of someone possessed. The other three watched Willow's facial expressions with some amusement – she alternated between having her tongue poking out slightly or wrinkling her brow as she struggled to remember something.

Finally, Tara snatched the cards away and tucked them under her napkin. "Will, you know that speech inside out, back to front and sideways...you're going to be fine."

Willow sighed. "If you say so."

"I do say so," Tara said firmly.

"So, you two must be up for a big night?" Faith said to ease Willow's nerves. "What do you say to hitting Imerst after this little shindig wraps up?"

It was Tara's turn to sigh. "Actually we can't. I have to fly to Auckland at 8.30am tomorrow morning for an all day writer's convention. There's a lunch at which I'm supposed to be the celebrity guest. Can you believe people have paid $120 just to eat with me and hear me talk about my books?"

"I can definitely believe it, I'd pay that – you're worth it," Willow grinned as she reached out and ran her hand gently along Tara's forearm. "Although, come to think of it, I can eat with you whenever I like for free...although that doesn't devalue your worth of course!"

Faith and Buffy laughed. In the silence that followed, they looked at each other as though asking a silent question. Buffy shrugged and eventually, Faith nodded.

"While we're still waiting, Buffy and I have a little bit of news," Faith announced, reaching across to take Buffy's hand.

"You're pregnant?" Willow joked with a mock look of shock on her face.

"Oh haha," Faith replied sarcastically. "I'm trying to be all serious here and you're ruining my moment. Buffy and I have decided to move in together. I'm not renewing the lease on my apartment when it runs out next month and I'm moving in with Buffy."

Willow and Tara both stared at their friends in actual shock. The new couple looked immensely pleased with themselves as they leaned across and kissed soundly.

"Oh my god," Tara said loudly. "You start dating a girl and a few months later you turn into the biggest lesbo! Next time I see you, you'll have two dogs and a motorbike and you'll be on your way to softball practice."

Faith shrugged. "What else can I say...I love her."

"Don't worry, cupcake, you don't have to play softball," Buffy laughed.

"Cupcake?" Willow exclaimed as though she had a bad taste in her mouth.

Before Willow could further dissect Buffy's choice of pet-name for her partner, they were joined by her Uncle and Aunt. The Rosenberg's greeted everyone warmly. Their arrival also meant that the evening's formalities were about to get underway. The Emcee was a guy who had once been semi-famous by appearing on a local TV soap, he told a few jokes and generally warmed the crowd up for the more serious speeches that would follow.

Halfway through her uncle's speech, Willow tuned out and glanced discreetly at Tara to see the blonde was balancing a napkin on her thigh under the table. She had obviously smuggled a pen in her handbag and was furiously making notes. Even as Willow watched, Tara finished covering one napkin with writing and had to reach up for another. She saw Willow watching her and winced apologetically. With an air of finality, she shoved both pen and napkin into her handbag and zipped it shut. Before Willow could say anything to Tara, Buffy kicked her from across the table and pointed towards the stage.

"...and now for an announcement that I have great pleasure in making," said Joe, looking directly down at Willow. "Ira Rosenberg's daughter, my niece, has finally decided to accept her position on the Board of RB Dynamics. I know her youthful enthusiasm will reinvigorate the company. Your father would have been extremely proud of you, Willow. So without further ago, please welcome Willow Rosenberg!"

* * *

Willow lay on her bed watching Tara undress with a small smile on her face. The evening had been a great success, she'd managed to get through her entire speech without forgetting a single important point – and people had even laughed at her terrible jokes.

"Can you believe Buffy and Faith are moving in together?" Willow laughed as she rolled over onto her back.

"Well, if ever I've seen two people head over heels..." Tara shrugged.

Tara was peeling off her dress and Willow eyed her body appreciatively. They did had to be up before seven am in the morning, but perhaps there was time for a little loving before they had to get some sleep.

In her underwear, Tara padded across the floor and leant down to lay a soft kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Will."

Willow listened to the sweet sound of those words. It wasn't the first time a lover had spoken them to her, but it was the most significant. Usually she just laughed, it meant another conquest had fallen for her. This time it was different. She knew just how heartfelt those words were coming from Tara. She also knew what they signified for their relationship. _This is the part where you say 'I love you' back._ Willow thought desperately as she stared down at the sheets instead of up at Tara's face. _C'mon, Willow. Just spit them out!_

However, as much as she wanted to say them in return, she couldn't muster a single word. Even when she drew in a deep breath and calmed her racing heart, all that emerged was, "Are you coming to bed?"

Being unable to look at her girlfriend, Willow completely missed the confused expression on Tara's face. It was gone quickly, replaced by one of hurt.

"I think I might sit up for a while," Tara said quietly as she pulled on a bathrobe. "I need to go over my material for tomorrow. Good night."

With that, Tara collected her laptop and moved out into the living room. Before Willow could even utter a word of protest, she shut the door. Willow was left lying on the bed alone, wondering if she even would have said anything given the chance.

* * *

The alarms went off in the apartment the next morning and Willow woke realising that Tara had never come to bed. Instead, there were blankets on the couch where she had slept. Willow felt terrible, especially considering Tara had to be fresh and ready to interact with some of her biggest fans in just a few hours time. Tara even went as far to say that she could take a taxi to the airport instead of being driven, but Willow insisted. The car ride to the airport was frosty, with neither saying a word until they reached the airport.

"You don't need to see me all the way in," Tara said quietly. "You can just drop me off at the entrance, then you won't have to pay for parking.

"No, I'm coming in," Willow replied firmly.

They checked Tara's bag and made their way to the departure gate, surrounded by other yawning travellers. Both took a seat on the hard, plastic airport furniture and sat watching the departures screen on the wall in front of them.

As time passed, Willow sat tapping her feet on the floor and drumming her fingers on the armrest of the seats as though she was incredibly impatient. Eventually, Tara turned to her and glared.

"If you want to leave so badly, then just leave!"

Willow let out a tiny whimper. Without any regard for the spectacle she was about to create, she slid off her seat and went down on her knees in front of Tara. She reached out and seized both her hands in a desperate grip.

"I'm scared," she admitted, talking quickly. "My Mum's love for my Dad was so intense, so strong, that it ruined the rest of her life. When he was gone, she could never stop loving him and move on. I'm scared that when I say those words, I'll set the same pattern of events into motion. If you leave, if something happens to you...I'll never be able to get over you because I love you just as fiercely as my Mum loved my Dad."

Willow deposited a kiss on Tara's hand, even as the blonde looked down at her with a stunned expression on her face. She drew in a hopeful breath before continuing.

"You're my entire world, Tara Maclay...and contrary to what you thought last night, and what you're probably thinking now...I love you. I love you so much it terrifies me," she hiccupped slightly as though starting to cry. "I know I need to learn to deal with that, but for a little while at least, can you put up with me being a little mental?"

Tara blinked several times and looked around nervously before turning her attention back to Willow. "A little mental? You're on your knees in the middle of an airport waiting lounge and everyone is staring at you."

Willow glanced around. Several people were looking directly at her, some with grins on their faces, others with slightly disapproving looks. Those that weren't staring at her were only pretending not to, they were just as engrossed in the drama that was folding out before them.

Willow laughed. "I don't care!"

With that, she stood and used both her hands to draw Tara up to a standing position too. She then leaned in and kissed her intensely, savouring the feel of her lips mingling with her tears. If she'd had any doubt as to whether Tara accepted her explanation, it was gone as the blonde kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm.

"How about you and me in a toilet stall?" Willow whispered as she bit Tara's ear.

"Willow Rosenberg, you are the biggest slut I've ever met...and you read my mind," Tara replied.

With that, the two women made their way as discreetly as possible out of the lounge and in search of the nearest toilet. It was difficult considering everyone was staring at them. With luck, the club lounge happened to be nearby, with fumbling fingers, Willow dug out her company travel card and quickly flashed it at the surprised hostess at the entrance as she dragged Tara past. She headed straight for the ladies' room and the nearest stall. Tara's carry-on luggage was dumped outside with little regard for its security.

When she threw Tara up against the stall wall and shut the door, she grinned mischievously. "Does this remind you of something?"

Tara laughed and hovered her lips close to Willow's. "The night we met."

Willow sighed, feeling Tara's hot breath on her face. "One of the best nights of my life. This is terrible, we're in a toilet, Tara...common-sense should prevail."

However, as Tara moved the last few inches forward to claim Willow's lips in a kiss, any thoughts regarding good sense were indiscriminately banished to a distant corner of her brain. Her knees went weak and she lost herself in the kiss, Tara's breath fused heatedly with her own and their bodies moved urgently against one another.

Without breaking the kiss, which had by now deepened into an even more intimate exploration, Tara kept one hand firmly around Willow's hips while the other moved lingeringly across her thigh and eventually to gently cup her sex on the outside of her pants. Willow responded to Tara's rather gentle touch with an urgent and insistent thrusting of her hips against the contact, her physical impatience telling Tara she could move faster. With fumbling fingers, Tara tugged apart the buttons that kept her from her goal. With a firm movement, she thrust one hand beneath the band of Willow's underwear. A grunt of surprised escaped Tara's lips as she slipped one finger between Willow's folds to find her already soaking wet - although as she felt the rising damp between her own legs she began to understand the acute desire and need Willow felt. Tara moved her other hand around, slipping Willow's pants further down so she could felt the silky skin of her arse as well. A naughty thrill enveloped her entire body. Her other hand moved against Willow's wet sex, not paying any particular attention to any one spot until the redhead broke their kiss to clamp down savagely on her ear as her finger brushed ever so lightly against her engorged clit. In response, Tara thrust her entire body against Willow's to shove her back against the stall. Her fingers then raked the tiny organ in rapid pulses, lavishing attention on that one spot. Willow's hips bucked in response, her mound moving against the palm of Willow's hand.

Tara kissed Willow's lips in a bruising movement before burying her face in the redhead's neck, attacking the soft skin she found there. Willow's head was twisted so that her mouth was pressed against Tara's ear. Without warning, but with a measure of tenderness, Tara slipped two fingers past Willow's clit and thrust them upwards into her cunt. Willow was of course, wet and more than ready for Tara's entry. She cried out with the new movement and bucked her hips forward to urge Tara as deep within her as possible. Tara followed the first thrust with an increasing number more, firmer than the first as Willow urged her on with the movement of her hips.

As Tara moved within her, Willow's head was thrown back and she strained against her touch. Suddenly, she arched her back and her nails threatened to pierce Tara's skin through the layers of her clothes.

Tara felt Willow's freely flowing juices pooling in the palm of her hand. Her increasingly urgent whispered cries were deafening in Tara's ears but she did not pause to consider for a second whether they would carry to anyone else in the members lounge, instead Tara concentrated everything she had on Willow. Only moments later she felt the tender and engorged flesh of her sex spasm uncontrollably as she climaxed, more juices continuing to coat Tara's hand and Willow's thighs.

Tara thrust her fingers deep for a few last, firm strokes, feeling Willow's cunt contract around her. The redhead's breath caught in her throat as she came.

"Fuck I love you," she gasped against Tara's throat. "I love you, Tara Maclay."

They held each other in trembling arms for a few moments before Tara disengaged herself to pull back and lift Willow's chin with gentle fingertips. As Willow gazed into Tara's liquid sapphire eyes, she couldn't recall the blonde ever looking more beautiful.

Willow grinned happily. "That was intense."

"Yeah," Tara agreed. "Do you think I have time for a shower before my plane leaves?"

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Can I please have everyone's attention?"

The loud chatter in the room gradually died down as everyone turned to face the stage and the woman standing at the podium. She waited a few more moments until she had the undivided attention of the assembled crowd and the clinking of wine glasses and served platters was silence.

"It has been my privilege to serve as publisher to one of our country's finest writers for over seven years," Bridget began in a clear voice. "Before I commence telling you about how brilliant she is, I have to offer an open apology to anyone who loves Tara's work, or who loves quality, superbly written fiction. You see, for almost all of Tara's career, I have been holding her back by not allowing her free reign to write the type of novel she always wanted to write. I restrained her creative passion, keeping her bound strictly by the rules and conventions of popular fiction writing...keeping her constrained by my fears, by my desire to publish best-sellers. However, that is no longer the case and I am immensely proud to say that this book is the first true 'Tara Maclay' novel. It is unrestrained, passionate and nothing short of a masterpiece. Enough of me, you've all come here tonight to launch Tara's book...and it is Tara you want to hear from, so please join me in welcoming to the stage, Tara Maclay!"

Resplendent in a dress of blue, Tara glided up the steps to the podium. She accepted a brief, but sincere kiss on the cheek from Bridget before taking her place behind the microphone. Before she began speaking, she searched out the one face in the crowd that she needed to see more than any other. There, standing next to Buffy, Faith and Xander, was Willow. The redhead was staring up at her with a glowing face. It gave her all the encouragement she needed to start her speech.

"Over the course of my writing career, I finished books without ever really knew what it was to write from the heart, to really believe the words I was committing to the page. However, in this past year of writing I finally found what was missing and I fully agree with Bridget when she said that this is the first true 'Tara Maclay' book, not just because the central story revolves around two women in love-" Tara paused as there was a chorus of cheers and clapping throughout the room. She grinned before continuing "-but because it truly does come from my heart. Something has happened to me over the past year...and more, to help me achieve this book. It's the first that I am truly proud to call my own. I don't want to say much about this fantastic, wonderfully talented and successful young woman in my life – I just want to read her the dedication..." The entire room went silent in anticipation as Tara lowered her eyes to the page and read aloud in a trembling voice. "This book is for my wife, Willow, my love - now and always."

When she raised her eyes to meet Willow's, they were shining with unshed tears. She had never appeared more radiant, or more beautiful. It was all Willow could do to keep from leaping onto the stage and throwing herself into Tara's arms. She watched as her girlfriend gently folded the book closed and continued to stare directly down at her.

"Did she just say 'my wife'?" Buffy asked Willow in a whisper.

"She definitely said 'wife'" Faith concurred. "Will, are you guys holding out on us?"

Willow had not even picked up on it, because it felt so right and natural for Tara to call her 'wife.' She shook her head slowly and an uncontrollable grin spread across her face. "No, I think Tara just asked me to marry her."

Then she was running, as fast as her heels would allow her. Moments later, she was on the stage and – without caring about anyone else in the room – kissing Tara soundly on the lips. When she drew back she felt hot tears running down her cheeks.

"Yes," she whispered fiercely. "I will marry you."

"Great," said Tara with a laugh. "Because that dedication has been printed in thousands of books, and I would hate for it to be wrong! God, I love you so much, Will."

"Well, I am pretty, fucking adorable," was Willow's eloquent reply.

**The desire of the moth for the star,  
****Of the night for the morrow,  
****The devotion to something afar  
****From the sphere of our sorrow**

**Percy Bysshe Shelley**

**The End**


End file.
